


When Darkness Descends

by darkness_prince_dan



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: (had it tagged as happy-ish but people complained so here you are), Alternate Universe, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Magic, Minor Character Death, Murder Mystery, Not A Happy Ending, Panic Attack, Royalty, Smut, Substance Abuse, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2016-11-18
Packaged: 2018-05-23 05:27:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 73,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6106354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkness_prince_dan/pseuds/darkness_prince_dan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prince Daniel travels to meet a possible future wife, a princess of a neighbouring kingdom. But what’s supposed to be a few boring weeks of getting to know the princess turns into more than even his clairvoyant friend could have foreseen when Dan gets involved with the princess’s half-brother, Phil.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 21-20 days until Winter Solstice

The crescent moon makes the snow glisten enchantingly, miniscule sparkles of light dancing across the undisturbed surface. The lanterns on the carriages and in the hands of guardsmen emit an orange glow, seemingly setting the white ground ablaze as the caravan trudges onwards. It’s a quiet winter night and it’s infuriatingly _boring_.

Dan has one hand under his chin, staring at the passing dark blur of trees outside his carriage’s window with disinterest, and he’s snapping the fingers of the other hand, making flames appear and vanish from his fingertips. He’s been in this wooden prison for what feels like years, though it’s only been a couple of weeks. Granted, he hasn’t stayed here the whole time they were travelling, he wouldn’t stand for that, but it’s still quite awful. Dan still doesn’t get why they couldn’t just use a teleportation spell; he messed that one up only once and his father just doesn’t let that go.

“Ugh,” the brunet grunts, hitting the back of his head on the soft material of his seat.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re bored,” his carriage companion drawls out when Dan’s about to open his mouth. “Get in line,” he huffs, eyes still closed.

Dan narrows his eyes at the guy and seriously rethinks his decision of having a clairvoyant as his best friend. Sometimes it’s just plain infuriating.

“That’s no way to speak to your prince,” the brunet says instead. And he’s not pouting. Nope.

“I am ever so sorry, Your Majesty,” the dark haired guy replies with faux guilt, putting a hand to his heart. “How could I, a lowly peasant, tell you to fucking man up and endure the last hour in silence so I could get some goddamn sleep,” he finishes with a deadpan expression.

“Bass, you’re an ass,” Dan says and the clairvoyant says it with him. The prince rolls his eyes and his friend cracks a smile, white teeth stark against his dark skin. “I hate you so much,” the prince tries but his companion only smiles wider.

“You love me,” he says in a sing-song voice. “You wanna get all up in this,” he motions with his hand at his body, wiggling his hips as best he can when he’s sitting down.

Dan huffs and looks up skywards, asking for any deity to help him through this hard time of having a dick of a friend.

The carriage halts, suddenly, and Dan scrambles on his seat so as not to plant face first into the seat in front of him. He exchanges glances with Sebastian but his friend only shrugs. Yeah, he hates how fickle those clairvoyant-y powers can be.

“What in the name of the Five is going on?” Dan hears his father’s voice boom loudly.

The prince sticks his head out the carriage window and inspects the scene. His father is halfway out of his own carriage, the one in front of Dan’s, his back is to Dan. He can’t see much else but he hears as one of the drivers apologises a million or so times, saying there’s a roadblock up ahead.

“Then remove it, don’t just stand there,” the king orders, huffing. He turns around then, eyes landing on his son before flickering behind him. “It’s alright, we’ll be moving along shortly,” he assures and Dan cranes his neck to the caravan behind him to see his younger brother and sister also staring out their carriage windows. They exchange unimpressed looks and get back into their own carriages.

“This would be interesting if I was allowed outside this stupid box,” Dan punches the carriage door and then crosses his arms, knuckles throbbing slightly in pain but he’s loathe to admit it so he just pouts.

“You totally hurt your hand,” Sebastian smirks and Dan almost growls at him.

“Shut up, Bass,” they say together and the prince groans because really? Fucking clairvoyants.

Dan stares out the carriage window at the dark mass of the still standing trees, the orange glow of the lanterns on the snow. His eye catches a movement and a chill runs down his spine, making Dan tense up. He leans forward, trying to see better, but there’s only blackness meeting him. For an unknown reason, he lifts up his hand, snapping his fingers and making a small flame appear. There’s a snap of a twig, a low hiss, and then quiet.

The carriage tugs forward. Dan’s frowning as he searches the treeline but there’s nothing there. He turns to his friend who has his eyes closed again, breathing even, as he’s dozing off. Nothing seems amiss. But there’s a weird feeling of unease tugging at Dan’s gut and he chews on his lower lip all the way to the castle.

***

“I swear by the Five, if you don’t stop fidgeting,” Dan’s sister, Elora, hisses at him lowly as they’re standing in the throne room, waiting for the royal family to arrive.

“You’ll what, Lor?” Dan smirks, now exaggeratedly tapping his foot, the rubber of his sneakers squeaking on the marble floor. “Are you gonna put spiders in my bed? That’s so three years ago,” he rolls his eyes.

Elora glares at him and turns away, chin high in the air. He has no idea where from she inherited the need for public display of propriety. Dan himself doesn’t much care about first impressions and keeping the press or the nobles off his back. At least it makes for interesting headlines.

“Relax, Lor,” his younger brother, Mathias, leans on her shoulder. He’s even easier going than Dan, and they both infuriate their youngest sibling to no end. “It’s not like this meeting determines the future of our country or anything,” he grins and then winks at Dan.

Their sister sends them both death glares and shrugs Mathias off of herself.

“Children,” Dan feels his father’s hand land on his shoulder, the other one is on Mathias’, “behave,” he says but it’s fond so they’re not in trouble. Yet.

Dan just huffs, crossing his arms.

“I mean, we’ve been trudging here for only two whole weeks, it’s not like they had the time to prepare or anything,” he mumbles under his breath. This earns him smiles from his father and brother.

Finally, the doors to the throne room open and the Howells turn to greet the other royal family. Dan’s never met the Bourbons but he already thinks he won’t like them much. The king looks boisterous enough and maybe even fun to hang out but his queen and daughters seem haughty and prissy, with impeccable fashion sense though.

They exchange formal greetings and Dan learns that the oldest, with rich chocolate curls and grey eyes, is named Madeleine. She’s extremely attractive and gives Dan the most gorgeous smile, managing to look sincere. The middle one, a blonde like her mother, is Cornelia, and the youngest, also a blonde but with her father’s blue eyes rather than her mother’s grey ones, is Alessandra.

“I imagined you being different,” Madeleine admits as they’re talking just the two of them after the introductions. She smiles lightly and is twirling her necklace on her fingers.

“Really? How so?” Dan asks, his own lips tugging upwards.

“I don’t know,” she casts her eyes down and then back up at him. “Maybe a bit more stiff, old school, you know, like our parents,” she glances at them and grins at him conspiratorially.

“Haven’t you been reading newspapers?” The brunet’s smile turns into a smirk. “I’m anything but,” he winks at her and Madeleine shakes her head, a little amused smile on her face as she tugs a strand of hair behind her ear.

“You can’t always trust the papers,” the princess says. “They make up stories left, right and centre,” she rolls her eyes. And doesn’t Dan know it. He suddenly thinks that his first thought was wrong and that he might like the Bourbons after all.

“Alright,” the queen claps her hands, drawing everybody’s attention and interrupting Dan’s light flirting. “I suppose, our guests are tired after such a long journey and they need rest. You will be shown to your rooms and tomorrow we’re having a feast in honour of your arrival,” she announces.

Dan says goodbye to Madeleine, kissing her hand as she curtsies, granting him another one of her brilliant smiles. The royal family leaves the room and several servants are waiting by the door to lead the Howells to their rooms.

“She’s not too bad,” Mathias claps a hand on Dan’s shoulder. “You should totally marry her,” he grins at his older brother and Dan rolls his eyes for the umpteenth time tonight.

“What did I do to deserve such family and friends?” He sighs dramatically.

***

Dan wakes up with his name being yelled loudly into his ear by a familiar voice. The prince groans and tugs the blanket over his head but it’s yanked away from him completely. The shouting intensifies. He pushes at Sebastian’s face, not even caring that he might poke his eye out or something.

“Dude, come on,” Sebastian shakes him by the shoulder. “We’ve got to cram a training session before the whole ordeal begins.”

“The Five are my witnesses,” Dan grumbles. “If you weren’t my friend, I’d incinerate you on the spot.”

But he gets up and gets dressed, all while Sebastian is grinning like a loon. Dan hates mornings and despises Bass for being a morning person. Seriously, he couldn’t have picked a worse best friend even if he tried.

They run their laps in the training centre of the guards, all of them already having had their workouts, so it’s empty.

“How did it go meeting your fiancée?” The clairvoyant is running backwards, smirking at Dan. Smug bastard.

“She’s not my fiancée yet,” the prince rolls his eyes.

“But your father is super good friends with her father so she’s basically your fiancée,” Bass counters.

“Yeah,” Dan sighs. They’re still keeping the pace light enough that he’s not out of breath. “He’d really like it if I chose Madeleine. And the Bourbons badly need this marriage to work out. But I’m not sure yet,” he shrugs a shoulder.

Madeleine didn’t seem too bad yesterday. Actually, she was better than he expected. Granted, they talked for like five minutes and Dan’s made a lot of rash bad decisions in his life but he’s not about to marry a girl who seems moderately nice.

After laps, it’s time for combat training and it’s the part Dan hates the most. He’d rather lie in his bed, munching on some snacks, than learn how to not let his magic overpower his body and soul.

“Come on, come on,” Sebastian is jumping in place and the prince is glaring daggers at him. “Throw another fire ball at me.”

Dan huffs. He summons a ball of fire onto his palm, the tattoo of the sun on his forearm blazing red, cracks his neck, and sends it flying towards his friend with all he’s got. Only that Sebastian ducks just in time and Dan can only watch in horror as the ball flies towards a guy who appeared out of nowhere.

“Heads up!” Bass shouts for the guy.

But they needn’t have worried as the guy blocks the fire ball with a wall of glistening water that he gathered just from thin air, apparently. Dan’s impressed. The impact does send him scrambling backwards and landing on his ass, though.

“Oh, man, I’m so sorry,” Dan runs up to the guy, extending a hand for him to help him get up. “You came out of nowhere, I thought we had the whole place to ourselves,” Dan bites his lip as the blue eyed guy accepts his hand. And blue eyes? Dan’s so a sucker for those. “But hey,” the brunet smirks, “you’re a mage too. That’s cool.”

His eyes then land on a completely white fox that’s staring at Dan with its beady blue eyes, the colour perfectly resembling its master’s. “And you have a familiar. That’s even cooler. I never managed to get one myself.”

“Would you let the guy talk,” Sebastian huffs, approaching them.

Dan shuts up immediately, rubbing at his neck and smiling sheepishly.

“Your Grace,” the dark haired guy bows formally, a corner of his lips tugging slightly upwards at Dan’s antics but it disappears soon enough, not evolving into even a half-smile. “I’ve been asked to tell you that you are invited to have breakfast with Princess Madeleine,” Blue Eyes says kind of stiffly, glancing away.

“Yeah, I don’t know,” the prince looks at his friend and then back at the guy. Those blue eyes seem familiar but he can’t place them. “I haven’t finished my session yet so,” he shrugs.

The stranger (Dan doesn’t think he’s a servant, he’s too well-dressed for that, maybe some noble, a friend of Madeleine’s) quirks up an eyebrow.

“What would you like me to say to the princess, Your Grace?” He asks. And now there’s amusement in his tone and Dan doesn’t know what he could’ve said that earned that.

“That I can’t come and that I’ll see her tonight,” the brunet answers. Once again a corner of the guy’s lips lifts upwards, though more noticeable now, and Dan can’t control his curiosity. “Why? What’s so funny?” He narrows his eyes.

“Nothing, Your Grace, my apologies,” the guy says, totally not sorry at all. “It’s just that no one says no to the princess.”

“And that amuses you?” Dan enquires. Clearly, this guy doesn’t like Madeleine, so then not her friend.

“Of course, not, Your Grace,” Blue Eyes becomes serious again, shaking his head.

“No worries,” the prince smirks. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

The guy gapes at him for a moment and Dan has a chance to appreciate how perfectly sculpted his cheekbones are, how impeccably the blue of his eyes contrasts with his black hair, and how there are bags under his eyes like he hasn’t slept in days. Then Dan receives a charming smile.

“With your permission, Your Grace,” Blue Eyes bows again and after Dan’s nod leaves with his fox trailing behind him. Dan so doesn’t ogle his behind, nope, he’s a gentleman. A gentleman who hasn’t had sex in a month and wouldn’t mind a one night stand with a gorgeous guy.

The prince turns to his friend and finds Sebastian staring after the guy with a calculating look on his face. Dan knows that look, it’s the I’m-trying-to-determine-what’s-up-with-the-subject-I’m-staring-at look.

“Well?” The brunet asks, after the stranger is long gone and Bass hasn’t spoken yet.

“I don’t know, man,” the clairvoyant frowns. “Couldn’t read him.”

Weird. But Dan just shrugs, it’s not like he’s an expert on these things, maybe Sebastian is just having an off day.

“Let’s go,” the prince tugs at his friend’s arm. “I still have the meditation part left.”

***

The main hall is lavishly decorated to celebrate the arrival of the Howell royal family. There are crystal chandeliers hanging, vases filled with flowers that shouldn’t be even blooming in winter time, banners of crests of the hosting and the visiting royal families. Soft musing is playing in the background, creating a lovely atmosphere.

Prince Daniel is mingling about, small talking to the nobles from all around, lightly flirting with the ladies and the lords, just enjoying himself. Madeleine corners him soon enough as Dan tries to reach Sebastian who looks uncomfortable, forcedly conversing with some girl.

“Your Majesty,” the princess greets him, a gorgeous smile on her face. The formal title throws him off a bit so Dan lifts an eyebrow at her. “You were quite busy this morning, I hear,” she brushes a strand of her chocolaty hair behind her ear.

“Yeah, I was,” the prince shrugs a shoulder. He probably should’ve tried and organised a lunch with her or something but clearly getting to know his future wife is not high on his priority list; he should probably sort that out. “Sorry that I couldn’t make breakfast.”

“Oh, that’s quite alright,” Madeleine says in a sweet tone, waving her hand dismissively, landing it on Dan’s upper arm.  “I do hope you’ll be able to go riding with me tomorrow. Our lands are beautiful this time of year.”

And she seems genuinely nice. Maybe it’s not that bad that he’ll most likely have to marry her. At least she appears to be agreeable and that’s more than some princes get from their wives.

“I don’t know if I can,” he says, sipping at his wine. He’s got some other plans for tomorrow, mostly involving snooping around the castle with Sebastian.

“Well,” the princess’s tone is nothing but sweet and the smile doesn’t leave her face. “Maybe some other time then.”

“Yeah, sure. How about the day after tomorrow?” He asks as he has to at the very least try to get to know her before proposing to her.

“That would be lovely,” Madeleine answers, batting her long lashes at him.

Dan smirks, wanting to keep flirting, but Bass is sending him some serious distress signals so he resigns to the fate of saving his friend.

“Excuse me but I have to go to my friend,” Dan waves the cup in Sebastian’s direction. “I’ll see you later,” he doesn’t even try to make it into a question.

Madeleine nods, saying an ‘of course’, and the prince kisses her hand again. He keeps eye contact this time, his lips curling up slightly as the girl blushes lightly.

As Dan walks away, he thinks that marrying a gorgeous girl wouldn’t be the worst thing to happen to him. Sure, he might not be in love with her or anything but he’s a royal and royals don’t marry for love. Clearly, Madeleine knows this too and she’s trying to make the best of this shitty arranged marriage situation by actually actively attempting to get to know Dan and get on with him. Which is way more than Dan’s been doing. He should probably make an effort too.

The brunet approaches his friend, asking to talk to him and apologising to the lady who only curtsies and smiles, happy to be addressed by the prince, and scurries off.

“What’s wrong with her?” Dan wonders before taking another sip of his wine.

“She was giving me bad vibes,” Sebastian shudders, making a face. “Her aura was clashing with mine.”

“I swear, you make half of this stuff up just so you wouldn’t have to talk to people,” Dan grins and Bass rolls his eyes.

The prince looks around the hall. His brother is whispering something into some guy’s ear, smirking devilishly as the other blushes. Dan snorts and shakes his head. Elora is having a chat with the queen, serious by the looks of it. And probably boring. His father is laughing loudly with the Bourbon king. This makes Dan genuinely smile; his father had a hard time after Dan’s mother’s death a couple years ago and the prince is glad to see him happy again. Then his gaze lands on the stranger from the training centre.

All thoughts of attempting to play nice with Madeleine leave Dan’s mind. Actually, his inane idea from this morning forms into a replacement plan, one that offers instant gratification rather than hard work at achieving something. And Dan’s nothing if not eager to get immediate pleasure.

Blue Eyes is leaning against a wall, sleeves rolled up and Dan licks his lips as he looks over the tattoos on the guy’s forearms (it’s not his fault he finds ink sexy as hell). His icy eyes are also scouring the crowd. The familiar is sitting by his feet, licking its paw.

“Oh, just get it out of your system,” Sebastian huffs beside Dan. His best friend knows him too well.

The prince smirks. Evilly.

“Actually,” he says nonchalant. “I was hoping to get it _into_ my system.”

The clairvoyant groans and rubs a hand over his face. Dan cackles. But the prince moves away from his friend and towards Blue Eyes. He passes by a servant with a tray, discarding his near empty wine glass on it.

“Hey,” Dan puts on his most charming smile and the guy pushes off the wall, bowing slightly.

“Your Grace,” he says.

“I didn’t catch your name this morning,” the prince tilts his head to the side, obviously checking him out; Dan’s never been subtle with what or who he wants.

“Um,” Blue Eyes gulps at Dan’s scrutiny but straightens up and replies in a soft yet sure tone. “Phil Lester, Your Grace.”

Dan nods, tracing the magical tattoos on the guy’s arms with his eyes.

“You have a good teacher, Phil, if you’ve already earned that many sigils,” he remarks quite impressed, really. Dan himself has only his left arm tattooed.

“Yeah,” Phil smiles shyly. “My mother teaches me. She insists we have lessons every day.”

The prince smiles at that.

“My mother used to teach me too,” he shares. “I’m a shit student, though,” he laughs. “She struggled so much but never lost her nerve. It came close a few times. I remember wanting a familiar just when I started out and I was so mad at her for not teaching me the spell. She calmly explained that I was not experienced enough and could get hurt if I try to create one. Never managed to anyway,” he shrugs and casts his eyes down at the fox that blinks at him slowly. “What’s its name?”

“Kitsu,” Phil replies. “I had a hard time performing the spell too. It took me four times before I managed to conjure her up.”

“I’ve tried more than a dozen,” Dan scoffs at himself as he kneels down, reaching for the white fox. He doesn’t touch it, just offers his hand. “I don’t have the concentration needed,” the prince lifts up his eyes and doesn’t miss as the guy’s Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows, looking down at Dan. The brunet smirks at him, the implications of his pose clicking in his mind.

Then a cold nose touches his fingers and Dan’s back at inspecting the fox. The familiar licks over his fingers, watching him all the while, and then nips at them. It’s not even that hard and doesn’t break skin but the brunet gasps nevertheless, mostly out of surprise.

“Kitsu,” Phil protests at once but Dan just shakes his head, standing back up.

“It’s fine, no harm done,” he smiles.

“I’m so sorry, Your Grace,” Phil’s eyes are wide.

“Really, it’s alright, Phil,” Dan reassures the other and puts a hand on his forearm, squeezing lightly.

Phil nods, heat rising to his cheeks. Dan thinks he couldn’t get more adorable.

“Philip, Daniel,” a voice sounds behind Dan and the prince turns, nodding at the queen.

“Melissa,” Phil answers coldly, tensing up instantly and drawing away from Dan.

The prince quirks an eyebrow at that. Since when are simple nobles allowed to address the queen using only her name?

“I thought you were to search the woods tonight,” the queen’s lips are set primly.

“My team is,” Phil replies, crossing his arms, one if his tattoos, a sigil Dan’s not familiar with, is thrumming in blue.

“I’m sorry,” Dan interrupts them. “I think I’m missing something. Why are you so familiar with the queen?” He looks at Phil, brows furrowed.

“You haven’t told him?” Melissa’s smile is predatory. “Philip here is my husband’s firstborn. A bastard,” she explains, eyes not leaving Phil who only clenches his jaw.

“But your surname,” Dan trails off, confused, brows furrowed.

“My mother’s,” Phil answers. “Melissa didn’t want me having my father’s.”

Dan thinks it’s weird how the whole character of a person can change depending on the people he’s talking to. Right now Phil is tightly wound, tattoos glowing faintly, his eyes not leaving Melissa’s, and his familiar is baring its teeth at the queen.

“You don’t _deserve_ to bear the king’s surname,” Melissa near snarls.

And woah, this situation is getting out of hand. So Dan steps in between Phil and Melissa, smiling charmingly at the queen.

“If you don’t mind, Your Majesty,” he says, using his sweetest tone that makes even the most prying of journalists get out of his hair, “Phil was about to show me some more advanced spells. The Five know, I need the practice,” he throws in another one of his smiles and tugs on Phil’s wrist, making a quick escape out the side door of the hall.

They stop in front of a huge window in some corridor that’s hardly used, judging by how sparsely the torches are lit. Dan chances a glance at Phil. The latter’s hands are trembling, mostly out of anger, Dan supposes, and he’s clearly trying to regulate his breathing and calm down. The fox jumps onto the windowsill, nuzzling at its master’s hand. Phil pets it lightly, tension leaving his frame.

“So,” Dan says, leaning his hip on the sill. “An infamous illegitimate child, huh?”

And then it clicks in Dan’s mind why Phil’s eyes seemed familiar; the Bourbon king has the same ones.

Phil tenses up again at Dan’s words and doesn’t look at him.

“I didn’t want to mislead you, Your Grace,” he says softly, fingers still running through the fox’s white fur. “I didn’t think –,” he stops mid-sentence, gnawing on his lip. “I’m sorry.”

“Nah, it’s fine,” Dan waves about with his hand. “It’s not like it’s _that_ important or anything. You’re just an extremely attractive guy whose sister I’m expected to marry and I wanted to get into your pants and have magical mind-blowing sex with you. It’s totally fine,” he grins.

Phil looks at him wide-eyed for a second, like he can’t believe Dan just said those words, but Dan’s anything if not straightforward with what he wants. And then Phil’s smiling too.

“Believe me,” the prince continues. “I’ve made far worse decisions and actually managed to follow through with them.”

Phil quirks up an eyebrow, his smile shifts to a smirk.

“So you no longer want to follow through with it?” He tilts his head to the side, biting on his lip, and Dan’s quite sure they’re hardcore flirting now.

“I could be persuaded,” the brunet murmurs, stepping closer to the other.

Now they’re close enough that if Dan only leaned in, he could capture Phil’s lips in a kiss. That thought makes his gaze drop to said lips and then back to Phil’s eyes. Phil mirrors his movements and moves forward just slightly.

But then he’s wincing and drawing back, glaring down at his familiar, shaking his right hand, and admonishing the soul animal with a, “Kitsu, damn it.” There’s blood trickling down his fingers from where the fox has bitten him.

Dan narrows his eyes at the familiar and it stares at him resolutely. Huh.

“Lord Philip,” someone shouts down the corridor and the sound of heavy boots pounding on the stone floor fills the air. They both turn to see a guy running up to them. He stops immediately, glancing with wide eyes at Phil and then at Dan. “Your Majesty,” he finally says, bowing to Dan, and the prince nods in acknowledgment.

“James,” Phil snaps the guy’s attention back to himself.

“Right,” the guy says. “We found another one,” he frowns. “Five miles south east of the last one.”

Phil nods like it makes perfect sense, pursing his lips into a tight line in dissatisfaction.

“A fourth one,” he sighs, wearily. “Alright, let’s go,” he pushes off the windowsill. The fox drops to the ground graciously. “Your Grace,” Phil bows to Dan and the guy does the same. Then they turn around and jog away, and Dan’s left frowning after them and wondering _what the hell_?


	2. 19 days until Winter Solstice

 

The air is chilly and the winter wind is picking up snow, building it into a small drift in the corner of the balcony. It’s cloudy, most likely will snow in the afternoon. The thicket of trees looms dark and broody, covering the horizon.

Dan doesn’t really feel the cold; his element is fire, after all. So he stands barefoot on the tiled balcony floor, only a t-shirt and pyjama bottoms covering his skin. One of his tattoos, a circle with a spear through it, is glowing a soft orange, keeping him warm.

He leans his forearms on the banister, a cup of tea close to his left elbow, and glances around. At least from this vantage point, the grounds look boring and deserted, covered in snow. Dan thinks maybe Madeleine was talking about the _forest_ grounds being lovely this time of year because as far as Dan can see there’s nothing spectacular near the castle.

The prince sips at his tea but grimaces as it’s already gotten cold fast because of being outside. Waking up another one of his sigils, two overlapping triangles, he concentrates the heat into his palms and warms the liquid up. When he glances back over the yard, Dan sees a bustle of men emerging from the treeline. The way they’re dragging their feet suggests they’ve been out all night and now are dead tired. A couple of them are carrying a stretcher, a blanket covering whoever or whatever’s on it and a trail of red splotches follows in its wake. The procession makes Dan shudder.

“Hey, dude,” Sebastian suddenly appears in the doorway of the balcony and Dan turns to him, grateful for the distraction. “Move your ass, it’s training time,” he grins.

The prince rolls his eyes, taking another sip of his tea, and thinks that he never should have let Bass get this familiar with him; the guy knows no boundaries.

This time the training session goes without a hitch and Dan’s showered and having breakfast with his family in no time. His father, of course, doesn’t ask how the lessons are going but Dan gets him; the prince himself wanted nothing to do with magic after what happened to his mother but he couldn’t just ignore his powers so he learned to deal with it.

“Madeleine seems nice,” the king says instead, looking over the local newspaper.

Dan hums noncommittally because he doesn’t want to give his dad false hopes, and pops a grape into his mouth. And seriously? For a kingdom that’s in so much debt they’re nearly drowning in ‘I O U’ notes, they sure as hell like to spend money on fruit in _winter time_.

“She said you refused to go riding with her today,” Elora rats him out, as usual. “What are you doing that’s more important than bonding with your future wife?” She raises an eyebrow, sipping at her cup of coffee. At least that’s good. Maybe she’ll be less of a brat after having her so desperately necessary caffeine fix.

“First of all,” Dan jabs in her direction with a knife he picked up to spread jam on his toast, a glob of red lands from the tip of the knife onto the white tablecloth, “it’s none of your business. Second of all, when did you talk to her about me and why? And third, she’s a _possible_ future wife.” How many times does he have to reiterate that so it would go through people’s thick skulls?

Elora rolls her eyes, like Howells are wont to do, and then answers him, “I talked to her yesterday, when you left her for some random guy.” Dan sighs at that. Can he have no privacy? “And I talked to her because you don’t seem to care about this marriage as much as you should.”

“I wasn’t the only one who left the party with a random guy,” Dan tries to deflect, smirking at Mathias who grins back and waggles his eyebrows.

“He was a duke,” Mat says and his grin widens. “And we had a really good time. Totally recommend.”

Their father clears his throat and shakes the paper vigorously. Elora scrunches up her nose in disgust. Dan and Mat laugh uproariously.

“Come on, pops,” Mathias claps the king on the shoulder. “Don’t tell us you haven’t had some good times with some lords and ladies.”

The king lowers the paper, his lips set primly, but his eyes are shining in amusement.

“I am neither denying nor admitting to anything,” he says and Dan and Mat smirk at each other.

“This family,” Elora mumbles to herself, sighing. But Dan knows she secretly loves their shenanigans.

This reminds Dan about their host family, namely a person who apparently is not very welcome with the family but who interests him the most. He takes a bite of his toast with jam, thinking over how to find out what he wants. But let’s be real, Dan’s never been subtle so he goes straight for the kill.

“I didn’t know that Gordon had a son,” he says, all nonchalant.

His father grimaces at that.

“Yes, he does,” is all he says, eyes returning to the paper.

“I met him yesterday,” Dan continues and receives a raised eyebrow from his brother.

“Did you now?” The king mumbles and Dan huffs.

“Oh, come on,” he flails his hands about. His father actually smirks before setting the paper down. The bastard.

“Gordon had an affair before he married Melissa,” Dan’s father explains. “Celeste was, and still is, in my opinion, a better match for him than Melissa could ever be,” his father sighs. “But you all know how marriages go for families like ours,” he looks pointedly at Dan, referring to his current situation.

“Celeste was a mage and not even a lady of any sorts. Gordon met her in the woods, of all places,” the king laughs softly. “They fell in love, had a son, and then Gordon had to marry another to keep his crown,” he shrugs and then looks all of his children in the eye. “Your mother and I were luckier. Status is everything in our world and, luckily for us, your mother was a noblewoman. Gordon’s story is a more common one for royals.”

They stay silent for a little while. Dan’s poking at the jam on his toast with his knife, thinking it all over.

“Last night, it didn’t seem like Melissa liked Phil much,” the prince says for some reason. He doesn’t know why but it nags at him that the queen hates on a child for what his parents did. And they didn’t even do anything that bad or unheard of.

“Melissa is a complicated person,” his father says diplomatically. “Phil could easily rise up to the throne if neither of the princesses got married to the right people and didn’t have heirs or if they died suddenly. I suppose, she thinks it likely that with Phil being a mage, and a brilliant one at that, her daughters might be in danger.”

“She thinks he’ll kill them?” Elora asks, eyebrows raised.

“Gordon and I haven’t talked about it,” the king says, “but I suppose so. Melissa doesn’t even let Celeste live in the castle and is extremely wary of Phil. She has her reasons, I imagine.”

Dan pokes at his toast some more, scowling at it this time. He doesn’t really know Phil but he assumes that he’s a decent person who won’t go on a homicidal spree on his family. But if Melissa thinks so, then she will probably do anything to get Dan to marry Madeleine as fast as possible. And he very much doesn’t want to but would most likely go with it. After all, as a prince, he has duties to his country. Doesn’t mean he has to like it.

The prince scowls harder at the toast, piercing it with his knife.

***

Dan gets distracted easily, he knows that. He also knows that he is not the most graceful person and sometimes trips on air. But as he’s turning a corner in a corridor of a still unfamiliar castle, he could swear that he was paying attention to where he was going and that something caught his foot. That’s his excuse as he bumps into another person and they both go tumbling to the cold hard ground.

“Your Grace,” sounds underneath him and Dan lifts up on his hands and finds blue eyes staring right back. Phil’s lips are quirked up into a smile and Dan can’t help but smile back; his sullen mood from breakfast evaporating in an instant.

“Oh, hi,” the prince says dumbly and Phil laughs at him, tongue poking out. Dan is suddenly very aware of the hands on his hips and how their crotches are pressed together.

“I wouldn’t mind this if it happened on a softer surface,” Phil jokes, eyes sparkling in amusement. “Or if I wasn’t in a rush,” he adds and Dan finally catches up.

“Oh,” he mumbles out again and sits up, straddling Phil. The other mage also sits, hands braced behind him, and then lifts an eyebrow at Dan, still smirking. The familiar behind him, honest to the gods, scoffs.

“Right,” Dan now full-on blushes, when their position clicks in his head, and he scrambles to stand up.

How the hell did this guy manage to make him into this mess? Dan’s usually way more composed than that when it comes to people he fancies.

“It was nice seeing you again,” Phil tips his head once he’s not lying on the ground anymore. “And I would love to chat with you but there’s someone I need to see,” he says regrettably. “Your Grace,” he bows. The white fox already trots forwards, eyes trained on Dan in an impressive glare.

But before Phil can scurry off too, Dan reaches for his hand. He meant to grab the wrist or something but he ends up tangling their fingers together. Fighting off the returning blush, Dan plays it off like he meant to do just that.

“Wait,” he says. “Are you free tonight?” He asks before he can chicken out. Or think up a myriad of reasons why this is a super duper shitty idea, even worse than the time he slept with one of his father’s councillors.

Now Phil’s eyebrows lift up in surprise.

“I –” he gets stuck on the words, slightly shaking his head. Clearly, the flirting was as far as he thought this would go.

“Just for dinner,” Dan says on impulse. He had other plans how he wanted to spend the night with Phil but having dinner together sounds nice too. It’s not like Dan never had to work to get someone into his bed. Okay, it was once and he gave up pretty quickly but it’s only because he met someone even more charming. “I would like to get to know you better.”

Phil gnaws on his lips for a second but then nods.

“Yeah, okay,” he smiles carefully.

“Great,” the prince beams back. “My chamber at eight?” He suggests.

Phil nods once more, Dan squeezes his fingers, and with a ‘see you then’ the prince walks away.

***

“You can’t be going on dates,” Elora protests, sitting on Dan’s bed and watching him riffle through his trunks to find something suitable to wear for tonight.

“And in the home of the girl you’re supposed to marry,” Mathias adds with a smirk. “That’s my brother,” he claps Dan on the shoulder.

Dan rolls his eyes, pulling out a black button up and looking it over.

“For the love of the Five,” he huffs out. “I’m not marrying her yet. There’s no contract so I’m still a free man.”

“But everyone _expects_ you to marry her,” Sebastian points out unhelpfully as he rolls onto his belly behind Elora. “That’s as good as done.”

And why in the world has everyone assembled in his room to watch him get ready for a date? They’re not even helpful. Dan should so throw them out. He doesn’t, of course.

“You’re supposed to be my friend and have my back,” the prince points an accusing finger at the clairvoyant.

“Hey,” Bass lifts up his hands as much as he can, considering his position, “I’m just saying that Madeleine is really bent over to marry you. All I can see in her future is you two standing at the altar. She obviously has her mind made up.”

“And what do you see in his future?” Elora glances back at Sebastian.

The clairvoyant frowns at that, staring at Dan with his full attention. With a long suffering sigh the prince resigns himself to not moving so that Bass could see easier and this all would be over sooner.

“Nothing,” he says after a moment, puzzled.

“What do you mean ‘nothing’?” Dan’s brows furrow as he looks at his friend.

“He’s not dying, is he?” Mathias suddenly asks, his eyes going wide.

“No,” Bass shakes his head and then runs a hand through his dark hair. “I mean, I don’t think so. It’s weird but your future is really unclear right now.”

Dan just huffs and turns back to searching for something to wear. He knows that Sebastian’s powers sometimes don’t work on certain people or get muddled up when there’s too much supernatural activity going on so he’s not _that_ worried. Besides, he doesn’t need a clairvoyant to tell him about his future; Dan can easily construct it himself.

“Aren’t you concerned about that?” Mat puts a hand on Dan’s shoulder.

“It’s gonna be fine,” the brunet waves with his hand and glances over his shoulder. “Right, Bass?”

“I guess,” he shrugs and then frowns, sighing in annoyance. “My powers have been going haywire since we got here. I’m sure Dan’s gonna be fine, though,” he reassures Mathias.

Dan’s brother nods, uncertainly, and Dan sends him a smile.

“What we should be worried about is that you’re going on a date when you’re not supposed to,” Elora butts in again, crossing her arms.

Dan exhales through gritted teeth and turns to his sister, glaring.

“Lor, I love you,” he says as evenly as possible. “But for the love of the Five, leave my personal life to me.”

“Your personal life is the whole kingdom’s personal life, Dan,” Elora stands up, hands on her hips. Dan gulps, suddenly reminded of their mom. He has to turn away and exhale slowly. “And if you’re not taking this seriously then someone has to.”

“I don’t want to fight with you,” the prince mumbles out, eyes closed, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. “I already made up my mind. So, Elora, please, leave or shut up,” he opens his eyes and sends her another glare.

His sister purses her lips and then plops down onto the bed, muttering, “The red plaid one looks best on you.”

A corner of Dan’s lips lifts upwards and he plucks the red shirt from the pile in his trunk.

***

Dan’s got his feet propped onto a chair in front of him as he’s sitting at the table for two, sipping at a glass of red wine. He wrinkles his nose slightly; he’s more of a fan of white one.

It’s already past eight and Dan sloshes the liquid in the cup, thinking he should just go and join his family for dinner because, apparently, Phil got cold feet or something and is not showing up.

Of course, it could also be that he finally realised how weird it would be for them to go on a date when Dan’s here to court his sister even though everyone and their mother knows that Dan’s the catch here and he’s the one who should be wooed. Still, the whole marriage thing remains an issue.

At exactly fifteen past eight the prince’s chamber doors burst open. Phil’s leaning on his knees and breathing heavily like he’s just run a marathon, or possibly from some scary beast that goes bump in the night; that could happen.

“Sorry, sorry,” the mage rasps out. His fox trots in after him, seemingly not affected that much by the physical exertion. “I lost track of time,” he finally straightens up a bit, his cheeks are flushed red. “Had to run back the whole distance.”

Dan tilts his head to the side, regarding Phil inquisitively.

“Are you this familiar with all royals you barely know?” The prince wonders, genuinely curious.

Phil’s eyes widen a bit and then he squares his shoulders, jaw tense all of a sudden.

“My apologies, Your Grace,” he says with a fake smile. “I will keep our interactions formal from now on.”

Dan’s eyebrows reach his hairline in his surprise. He totally just missed something. Then he repeats the question in his mind and thinks it might have sounded more reproachful than he intended.

“That’s not what I meant,” he hurries to explain, standing up. “It’s just that people aren’t usually this at ease with me,” he runs a hand through his hair and then sighs, waving to a free chair. “Please, sit.”

Phil eyes him cautiously but then closes the door and comes closer, plopping down into the offered chair. His familiar doesn’t rest beside its master. The fox saunters around the room, sniffing at various things, most of which don’t even belong to Dan so he supposes it won’t think to mark anything.

“Would you like some wine?” Is what Dan chooses to start off with, and lifts the jug with the proffered liquid.

“Your Grace,” Phil suddenly jumps to his feet, taking the jug from him. “You shouldn’t wait on me.”

“Shouldn’t doesn’t mean I can’t,” Dan replies but gives up the pitcher and sits down. “Also, you can call me Dan.”

Phil lifts an eyebrow at that but doesn’t comment as he pours some wine into his cup and plops back into the chair.

“What demanded your attention so much that you forgot about our meeting?” Dan wonders, eyes glued to Phil like he’s the most interesting specimen in the world. And in a way, he is. The prince is fascinated with his tattoos that are on full display right now as the other mage has his sleeves rolled up. Also, Phil’s damn attractive and Dan’s self-control is at three out of ten on a good day so he doesn’t hold it against himself.

“There have been murders happening for the past two weeks,” Phil answers, sipping the wine. “I met with a local emissary, thought she’d know something. We talked for a while about what could be killing people.”

“And it’s your business because?” Dan prompts. He was never much in tune with crime solving and the like but he’s pretty sure this kingdom must have some kind of military force for that.

“It’s supernatural,” Phil’s eyes slide over him and Dan supresses a shudder from the intense gaze. “My father appointed me the position of King’s Deputy for Supernatural Occurrences so that Melissa couldn’t throw me out of the castle,” he smirks.

“So supernatural is problematic here?” The prince questions further, grabbing a strawberry out of the fruit bowl.

Phil nods a few times, then adds, “It has been as long as I can remember. This area attracts a lot of activity. Mostly negative,” he frowns at his cup and then sips some more. “But I like the job. Gives me something to do besides sitting on my ass all day, ordering people to do my bidding,” he snorts at that.

Then his eyes widen for a second as he lifts them up to Dan. “I didn’t mean that as an insult to you, Your Grace –”

The prince lifts his hand, stopping him from apologising more. What is with this guy and being sorry all the time?

“It’s fine,” he shrugs. “Though I’m sure you know that royals do have things to do other than sit on their asses,” Dan lifts an eyebrow, a smile playing on his lips so Phil wouldn’t think that Dan’s a conceited dick who can’t have a normal chat without assuming everyone’s out to insult his fragile princehood.

Phil’s not looking at him, though. He’s staring at his plate of food that once was warm, and frowning.

“I know my father has duties,” he says. “But the princesses have plenty of free time.” And then he adds, “For scheming and such.”

Dan thinks they’re going into deep talk territory already and the Five know he’s so not good at that. If you need sarcasm and self-deprecation, then Dan’s your guy. But actually talking about problems or, the Five forbid, _feelings_ is so not his thing. Besides, all Dan wanted from Phil was some fun and a quick fuck which would have been spectacular as they’re both mages and Dan hasn’t had a mage in his bed for a long time now and would very much like to experience magical sex again.

That’s why he steers the chat onto less dangerous waters with a, “So, did you find out who’s the murderer?”

“We came up with a lot of possibilities,” Phil answers, biting his lip, and then shrugging a shoulder. “It’ll take time to sort through them.”

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” the prince offers him a reassuring smile and Phil’s lips lift upwards in return.

There’s a lull in the conversation as they both clearly check each other out. Dan likes to think it’s his charming looks and irresistible personality that make Phil’s pupils blow wide and not the low lighting.

The blue-eyed mage slips out his tongue to wet his lips as his eyes are locked onto Dan’s neck, and the prince resists smirking when he tilts his head slightly to the side, exposing more of his flesh. Phil’s breath hitches, barely noticeable, and he focuses on taking another sip of his wine. Now the prince allows himself to grin into his own wine cup.

“Are you enjoying your stay at the castle?” Phil wonders, looking Dan straight in the eyes, keeping his gaze from wandering.

The prince shrugs a shoulder and says, “Haven’t had much time to explore it,” a lie because he and Bass spent half of today just sticking their noses into rooms they probably weren’t supposed to be sticking their noses into, “or the castle grounds. Maybe you could show me around?” Dan smiles innocently.

Phil’s gaze flickers away. He seems to be thinking the suggestion over.

“I thought Madeleine was looking forward to making a tour for you,” he says, voice cautious.

And Dan suddenly wonders if Phil will even agree to have a secret affair with Dan. He seems like a stand-up guy who’s not much into morally grey areas, and Dan basically lives there. But the prince is determined to at least try and persuade Phil when the time comes. After all, what’s life without a little debauchery, right?

“I’d rather you did it,” Dan admits. “You could also try to charm me with some of your awesome magic tricks when we’re a safe distance away from something damageable,” he smirks.

Phil huffs in amusement and agrees with a simple, “Alright.”

From there the conversation evolves into discussions about magic, the way they discovered their powers, how they were taught, comparing the different teaching techniques of their mothers, and hilarious stories on how they earned some of their sigils. As the night wears on, Dan starts feeling pleasantly buzzed from the wine, and he can see the alcohol induced blush rising to Phil’s cheeks. The other mage’s familiar rests by his feet, dozing off.

“I should probably go,” Phil says when the clock in the corner of the room strikes two a.m.

They have progressed from eye-fucking each other to actually touching one another. Of course, it’s nothing too brazen, just their knees knocking as they’re now sitting closer together, fingertips of Dan’s left hand gliding over Phil’s tattoos.

The fox lifts its head at its master’s words, icy blue eyes blinking slowly at Dan. The prince thinks it has a too intense stare for an animal and it unnerves him slightly.

“Yeah, okay,” Dan agrees reluctantly. “But we’re meeting tomorrow, right?” He bats his eyelashes, knowing full well what kind of effect it has on people. And he’s still got it as Phil only nods his head in acquiescence.

They stand up, losing all contact points. The familiar stretches, yawning widely, and trots to the door, sitting by it. Phil moves there as well, Dan following behind.

“I had a really lovely time tonight,” Phil tells Dan, gripping the door handle, drawing out the moment they have to say goodbye. Dan could swear that from the corner of his eye he sees the soul animal roll its eyes.

“Me too,” the prince smiles warmly. And he really did, even though it didn’t involve the mind-blowing magical sex he wanted, it still was a pleasant way to spend the time on a long winter’s night.

“Goodnight, Your Grace,” Phil bows slightly and Dan rolls his eyes.

“My name’s Dan,” he says with a sigh for not the first time tonight but Phil only beams. “Goodnight,” the prince responds after a beat.

Phil steps out of the prince’s chamber, walking a couple of steps before turning back and waving at him, a grin still firmly placed on his ridiculously kissable mouth. Dan huffs out a short laugh and raises his hand in a two-fingered salutation. When Phil finally disappears behind the corner, Dan closes the door, smiling like a loon.


	3. 18 days until Winter Solstice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for a not really descriptive **panic attack** at the begging of the chapter; skip the first scene if you're triggered by stuff like that

The wind howls too loudly, and the naked tree branches scrape against the glass of the window with the force of the gusts. It’s eerie without even a single candle lit in the room. A shadow ghosts in the balcony, barely audible clicking on tiles is drowned by the wind.

The back of Dan’s neck prickles with goose bumps and he can’t shake the feeling of someone watching him. But there can’t be anyone because he’s been alone here since Phil left, and his chamber is on the third floor, without any possibility of anyone climbing the smooth stone wall. So his instincts are being stupid. The prince tosses and turns for the hundredth time, his chest tightens in spasms and his heartbeat picks up even more for no apparent reason as a wind gust slams into the window of the balcony.

Finally, he gives up.

The prince huffs, annoyed at himself, as he sits up but touches one of his tattoos with his pointer finger nevertheless. The flame sigil flickers red, waking up, and Dan mumbles a short incantation. All the candles in the room flare to life, flames a bit higher than he intended, though they shrink after a couple of seconds.

In the soft orange glow of the flames he feels more grounded. It calms him down somewhat, and he can feel his heart rate returning back to normal but not as quickly as he’d like. The prince drops back onto his pillow, staring as shadows dance across the ceiling from the flickering of the flames.

The clock in the corner of the room chimes five in the morning. Still a few hours until dawn. He chews on his lip as the unsettling feeling doesn’t leave his gut. So Dan does what he’s used to doing when he’s stressed since he found his abilities.

The prince slides the whole of his right palm over his left forearm. His skin is set ablaze in reds, oranges and purples; tattoos shimmering, vibrating with magic, a faint buzzing in the air. Dan practices his breathing techniques, making the flames all around his chamber breathe with him. As he inhales the candlelight becomes brighter, flames get higher, and as he exhales the room dims down, flames shrinking down.

 _Repeat it until you’re calm again_ , her voice resounds in his brain so clear that Dan chokes on air. He has to sit up, gulping down the oxygen, in the once again completely dark room. Frame shaking, hands trembling, Dan grasps at the sheets, shutting his eyes tight against his blurring vision. He pushes the memories of his mother into the farthest corner of his mind and _breathes_.

Counting to five, he inhales, this time without magicking the candles to do his bidding so it wouldn’t drain him as much. Then another five as he holds it in, and once more till five when he exhales. After several rounds of that he collapses onto his bed again, completely worn out and feeling like shit. By the Five, he could totally live without this.

And to think that only a couple hours ago he was enjoying a nice conversation with a stupidly gorgeous guy and just having fun. Not so much now. He groans aloud, flipping onto his belly and burying his pouty face into a pillow, willing his heart to stop aching.

It proves to be an even longer night than he wished it to be.

***

Predictably, after not having slept much last night, Dan’s training session with Sebastian turns into a shit show. The prince can’t concentrate, his tattoos flicker randomly, and anxiety doesn’t leave his gut. Performing even the most basic of spells proves to be a hardship for the mage so he huffs in annoyance and goes to sit on a bench and pouts petulantly. He’s so being an adult about this.

“Wanna talk about it?” Bass asks carefully, offering Dan a bottle of water. “Did your date not go well last night?”

The prince accepts the offering and gulps down half the bottle. He doesn’t feel any better.

“It went fine,” he replies finally, though with a bit more irritation in his voice than intended so Bass lifts an eyebrow. Dan groans.

“It really was fine,” he repeats. “Great, actually. We talked for half the night. I got to know him better. It was fun,” he smiles softly, looking down at his hands, spinning the bottle between them. “He’s an interesting guy and we’re going on another date later today. This,” he motions at his flickering tattoos, frowning at them for good measure, “has nothing to do with him.”

“You’re going on _another_ date?” The clairvoyant parrots back. “Well, that’s new.” He sips at his own water, watching Dan like he said something crazy.

“Hey,” the prince jabs a finger into his friend’s chest. “I’ve been on multiple dates with the same person before.”

“Yeah,” Bass says. “Fuck dates. You just said you _talked_ all night. And that it was _fun_.” He scrunches up his nose like he can’t quite believe the notion.

Dan grimaces. Yeah, Sebastian’s right about that one. But it’s not Dan’s fault that nobody can hold his attention for longer than five minutes before he moves onto his next crush. Which, maybe it is. Maybe he has some commitment issues or some similar shit but he’s so not focusing on that any time soon.

“Now I’m not allowed to have conversations with the people I wanna have sex with? Get to know them beforehand?” The prince questions, mock offended.

“That’s totally your style,” Bass nods exaggeratedly. “Next thing we know, you’re getting into a relationship with the guy and skipping happily off into the sunset and forgetting that you have an arranged marriage looming over your head,” he rattles off, all fake enthusiasm and too big smiles.

“Ugh, I’m so not forgetting that if you keep reminding me,” Dan thumps his head on the wall behind him, closing his eyes.

“So what’s your endgame with this guy then?” Bass wonders. “I thought you wanted to get him into your bed and be rid of him by morning.”

“That was the original plan,” the prince admits with a resigned sigh. “But you know how good I am at sticking to plans,” Dan grimaces again and Sebastian scoffs.

“What now then?” The clairvoyant repeats the question. And for being a clairvoyant he totally should not be asking questions about people’s plans on their future if he doesn’t want to lose his credibility.

“I don’t know,” the mage shrugs. He gnaws on his lip, running a finger on his tattooed forearm, making the sigils calm down and turn black again. “I think I’m starting to actually enjoy his company,” he shrugs a shoulder.

“You know you have to be careful about that, right?” Bass cautions, real worry creasing his features.

“I’m not gonna fall in love with him and run off,” Dan rolls his eyes.

“Now you totally jinxed yourself,” Sebastian points a finger at him. Dan studiously ignores his words.

“I’m just gonna spend some time with him, have fun while it lasts, and then I’m proposing to Madeleine on Winter Solstice like everyone expects me to,” he relays his improved plan which he whipped up during his sleepless night. It’s a good plan as plans go. Especially, as _Dan’s_ plans go.

Of course, he’s not overjoyed at the future prospect of marrying a girl he barely knows but he’s a mature responsible person who will do right by his kingdom and his family. It’s not that big of a deal, really. The prince already had years to adjust to the idea of probably marrying some stranger just because politics dictates so; it’s nothing new in his world. Dan accepted that notion years ago even if he’s not thrilled about it.

And there’s nothing wrong with having a little bit of fun before being tied down for the rest of his life to a girl he’s talked to twice. Dan wrinkles his nose. Yeah, maybe he should put more effort into getting to know his future wife rather than his future wife’s half-brother. That would be a wise decision. But the prince is not known for wise decisions.

Bass bumps his shoulder into Dan’s, rousing the brunet from his thoughts. “Wanna do the meditation?” The clairvoyant asks. “I don’t think we’re gonna achieve much on the fighting technique front today.”

Dan agrees with a grunt. He’s still feeling unsettled and for a mage it’s not good news. He needs to calm down and rein his magic in so he doesn’t set the whole castle on fire or something equally ridiculous.

They settle themselves down onto training mats, closing their eyes, breathing in unison. After a moment, Dan’s mind blanks in that familiar and comforting way, and he somewhat relaxes.

***

A blinding white storm picks up just after midday. Fat snowflakes fall from grey clouds, the wind starts up, and soon only a blanket of thick white can be seen behind the windows. It makes Dan restless. He feels trapped inside the castle and that, paired with the still not vanishing anxiety, makes him fidget more and more. Soon he just can’t take being in his chamber any longer and so he takes off, wandering the many halls of the still alien castle.

The prince mumbles various incantations under his breath as he moves through the corridors; another coping technique of his. The chants don’t do anything, of course, since he’s not waking his sigils to invoke the words. He just repeats them to get his mind off of the storm and the gnawing feeling of unease in his gut that refuses to leave no matter what.

Dan idly thinks that his date with Phil probably won’t happen. They planned to go around the castle grounds but with the blizzard it doesn’t seem possible. Damn it. He actually was looking forward to seeing Phil today. Maybe they’ll be able to arrange something for tomorrow. Dan gnaws on his lip, plans already stirring in his head.

And then he bumps into someone, nearly losing his footing but the person grabs his arms, steadying him. The brunet blinks, staring into the familiar blue eyes that now seem to have green and golden swirls in them. Huh.

“We should stop meeting like this,” Phil’s lips curl into a smile.

Dan blinks some more because what? He so wasn’t listening, too mesmerised by the ever-changing colour of Phil’s eyes. The words register in Dan’s mind after an embarrassingly long time.

“Yeah, sorry,” he smiles, a few seconds too late.

“No problem,” the other mage replies. His hands leave Dan’s upper arms, and the brunet is already craving the touch back. “Actually, I was coming to see you,” he says, tucking his hands into his pockets and looking away.

“Oh?” The prince prompts, raising an eyebrow. His heart makes a weird fluttery thing and Dan rubs a hand over his chest. What’s up with that?

“Yeah,” Phil rubs at the back of his neck, eyes on his familiar which sits by his feet, beady eyes staring straight into Dan’s soul, making the prince want to shudder. “Clearly, our outing has to be cancelled,” he motions towards the windows where nothing can be seen.

“I figured as much,” Dan sighs. “Tomorrow maybe?” He asks with hope, one side of his mouth quirking up.

“Definitely,” Phil grins back at him and then glances away again, shyly. “But for today I thought I could show you around the castle?” He tilts his head to the side adorably and who’s Dan to say no to that?

“I’d love that,” the prince agrees, his own smile back in full force.

So together they disappear for a few hours. Phil drags Dan down into the kitchens, and Dan’s never even been to the kitchens of his own castle so it’s a new and exciting experience for him which makes Phil laugh and shake his head at Dan’s lack of knowledge about basic things.

“You would not survive a day on your own,” Phil chides him good-naturedly as they leave the kitchens after the prince revealed that he doesn’t even know how to make tea.

The brunet rolls his eyes. “I always have people waiting on me. Why in the world would I need to know how to make my own damned tea?” And if he pouts slightly, well then that’s no one else’s business but his own.

“Please tell me that you at least dress yourself,” Phil teases him further.

“Why?” Dan smirks evilly now. “Would you like to help me?”

Phil startles for a second, blue eyes going wide, and then a grin splits his face. His genuine and uncontained laugh echoes off the walls of the corridor, and Dan’s heart does that flippy thing again. Weird.

“I so walked right into that,” Phil manages between bursts of laughter. It brings a warm smile to Dan’s own face.

They explore the library next. There are rows upon rows of books on the first as well as on the second floors, some rare volumes, mostly more common books. But they’re about anything and everything, from popular romance novels to philosophical tomes, from gardening to magic spells. Dan thinks that if the king sold them, the kingdom’s debts would lessen considerably.

The prince is leafing through a particularly worn fairy-tale book. It’s got stains on several pages, others are dog-eared, some are falling out. Clearly, it’s much loved.

“My mother used to read me those before bed,” Phil says, standing close to Dan, their shoulders brushing, as he watches the brunet turning the pages and admiring the vivid colours of the illustrations. “Father says his own mother used to do the same. It’s a tradition, I guess,” his smile is kind of bittersweet though.

“My mother used to sing,” Dan feels the need to share for some reason. “We would all huddle up in her and father’s bed and she’d sing lullabies. She had the most beautiful voice,” the prince mumbles the last part, taking a shuddery breath.

Talking about his mother is still not an easy thing for him. Actually, he’s never mentioned her in fear of the crippling dread flooding him mid-conversation and forcing him to make a run for it, embarrassing himself. But Dan didn’t even think twice before sharing memories of her with Phil the night before and during the ball. Huh. Curious. Especially since the anxiety is more than manageable.

Phil’s hand is on his shoulder then, the contact warm and soothing, and he squeezes lightly. The other mage offers him a small quirk of his lips, and Dan’s answering smile is as small but still grateful. The prince places the book back where it belongs.

They walk down the halls in companionable silence after that, arms brushing once in a while. Dan can’t help but think that never in his life has he told anyone as much about his private life as he keeps telling Phil. Sure, his other dates were mostly for sex and there was no real need to make conversation – and he sure as hell wants that from Phil too, –  but just being with him feels different. The prince doesn’t just want the other mage in his bed. Dan wants to keep getting to know him, share stories with him. It’s disconcerting to say the least.

The last stop on the grand tour is the winter garden. The glass dome of it is covered in a thick layer of snow, seemingly threatening to cave in. It’s, of course, warm inside. The plants are vibrant and lush, flowers blooming in all kinds of colours, vines climbing up stone walls, vegetation covering near every surface. The air is humid, nearly instantly making Dan’s hair curl.

“This is amazing,” the brunet breathes, looking around with wide eyes. How have he and Bass not come upon this place during their snooping?

“I thought you’d like it,” Phil smiles at him. “You don’t seem to be big on winter.”

Dan huffs. _That’s an understatement_ , he thinks while he glances around once again.

Phil tugs on the sleeve of his shirt and leads him further inside. They walk on the tiled pathways that are overgrowing with vines, and Phil points out some of the plants, telling Dan where they’re from and what kind of magical properties they have. The prince doesn’t even notice how the knot in his belly unwinds bit by bit until he can’t feel his anxiety anymore.

They rest on the edge of the fountain in the middle of the garden. Dan’s leaning back on his hands, eyes closed, as he finally feels calm. This is relaxing him more than meditation.

“You seemed preoccupied today,” Phil says softly, trying not to ruin the relaxed atmosphere.

Dan opens his eyes slowly, regarding the slightly worried frown on Phil’s face. The other mage is running his fingers through his familiar’s fur; the fox has settled onto Phil’s lap but its head is angled so it could frown at Dan. The prince wants to shake the animal and ask what its problem is. Instead, he ignores the offending soul animal in favour of focusing on Phil.

“Didn’t sleep well,” the prince shrugs a shoulder in answer. It’s not a lie per say but as much as he’s already shared with Phil, he doesn’t feel comfortable telling him about the way he’s hardly dealing with his mother’s death. Also, that’s a bit too heavy for a second date.

“Anything I can help with?” Phil asks innocently, slightly tipping his head to the side. And then his eyes widen a bit, mouth going slack at Dan’s predatory grin and the way the prince pointedly looks over his body.

“I-I didn’t mean – Ugh,” the other mage groans, running a hand down his face. The whole situation makes Dan laugh out loud. Phil peeks from behind his hand, lips curling upwards. “What I meant was that I’m good with herbs,” he explains, cheeks burning red. “I could make you some herbal mix to help you sleep.”

“Hmm,” Dan hums, eyes raking over Phil’s form appreciatively. “I think I’m more in favour of the first implication,” he smirks.

The other mage rolls his eyes but he’s smiling so Dan doesn’t think he stepped over any boundaries. They’ve been flirting all day anyway. Besides, Dan already told Phil, very plainly, might he add, that he wanted to get into his pants. Dan’s intentions shouldn’t be news to Phil, though Phil’s take on the whole situation still remains a mystery to Dan.

Phil’s showing Dan some basic water magic techniques, there’s a swirl of water droplets dancing on the waterline as a swirly tattoo glows on Phil’s left forearm, when they’re interrupted by someone approaching. Heels click loudly on the tiled floor and soon a butler rounds the corner. His chin is held high, mouth set primly, and wrinkles carve his face, making him look even older than he probably is.

The man regards Phil with the most disdainful look Dan’s ever seen on anyone, and Phil tenses. The droplets he’s been manipulating drop back into the fountain with a splash as the mage looks away, jaw locked.

“Your Highness,” the butler bows to Dan. He doesn’t acknowledge Phil verbally. “The queen would like to request your presence at lunch,” he informs in a flat tone.

“Like, right now?” Dan asks. Has he really spent this much time with Phil without noticing?

The thin line of the man’s mouth gets even thinner at Dan’s, admittedly, not very graceful remark. “Yes, Your Highness,” he answers nevertheless, tone still as lively as a brick wall.

“Sure, be there in a sec,” the prince grins at him just to ruffle his feathers even more.

Dan’s feat proves to be successful as the butler’s frown turns frownier. But the man nods and takes his leave. Dan turns to Phil who’s scowling at the retreating back of the butler. The fox is baring its teeth silently, eyes also locked on the older man.

“Apparently, I have to go,” the prince disrupts Phil’s glaring. “Royal duties and all that,” he sighs. “I’d really much rather spend more time with you,” Dan makes a gamble and reaches for Phil’s hand, wrapping his fingers around the other’s wrist, squeezing reassuringly.

Phil’s gaze redirects to their connected hands and then up to Dan’s face. He smiles ruefully. “Me too,” he says. “But I’ll see you tomorrow if the blizzard clears?”

The brunet nods enthusiastically. “Sure thing,” he replies, smiling.

Dan squeezes Phil’s wrist once more before removing his fingers and finding his way to the queen’s chambers. The anxiety returns to his gut, and he could bet his crown that lunch with Melissa will not be a pleasant affair.


	4. 18-16 days until Winter Solstice

His tattoos keep flaring up the farther he gets from the winter garden and closer to the queen’s chambers on the other side of the castle. It’s at least a ten minute walk, and Dan has to calm his magic down twice on the way. Feeling this unsettled and having to meet with scheming queens is not Dan’s idea of a good time. For such meetings he needs a clear head. Maybe he should’ve spent more time meditating or something.

Ugh, today’s turning into a shit day.

He shows up to the queen’s chambers to see her not alone. Along with Melissa, Madeleine is sitting behind the table, both waiting patiently, sipping their tea. The princess gives Dan the most brilliant smile when he enters, and he can’t help but smile back at her. He might not be in love with her but he really thinks that they could become friends and make marriage work. That’s more than most royals get.

“Daniel,” the queen says at once before he even has a chance to close the door. “I am very pleased you have accepted my invitation to join us,” she smirks.

Like he could’ve said no to her. Dan suppresses a sigh. At least Madeleine’s here and she’s nice company.

“Thank you for inviting me, Your Majesty,” the prince responds, all polite smiles. He can be diplomatic when he wants to.

Dan shuts the door and takes a seat next to Madeleine. “Hey,” he smirks at her, brushing his fingers over her hand in greeting. The princess glances away shyly, murmuring a ‘hi’.

Dan lifts his eyes to the queen who looks pleased at their little interaction. It wasn’t his intention to appease Melissa but whatever. He pours himself some tea.

“Madeleine tells me she offered to go riding with you around the grounds,” the queen fills the silence.

Right. Small talk – the bread and butter of royalty. Dan can totally do this.

The prince nods, empathetically. “Yes, she did,” he responds. “But I was quite busy the day before, still settling in,” Dan lies easily. “Maybe we’ll go when the weather clears?” He directs the question to Madeleine.

“I’d like –” Madeleine starts saying, lips quirked up slightly.

But her mother talks right over her. “That’s a great idea, dear,” Melissa sends a not very genuine smile Dan’s way. “But the blizzard might last for days. The winters here can get harsh. I think you should plan to spend some time together inside the castle.”

And who the fuck asked her? Dan doesn’t need her advice on how or when to spend time with his possible future wife. He knows why Melissa’s butting in, of course. She wants him to marry her daughter and will, clearly, push them together at any possible moment.

Dan puts on his most charming face. “I’m sure Madeleine and I will think of something,” he comments before sipping his tea, which is surprisingly not that bad; better than their wine at the very least.

“Madeleine grew up in this castle,” Melissa ploughs on, ignoring Dan’s hint completely. “She knows it like the back of her hand,” the queen forces a smile at her daughter before turning back to Dan. “She could show you around.” It’s not a suggestion.

Dan glances at the girl herself. Madeleine sits all tensed up, her lips pressed into a thin line, staring at the fireplace. She doesn’t seem to like her mother talking for her more than Dan does but the princess is not saying anything so maybe she’s used to it; and Melissa does appear to be one of those controlling mothers.

“If you think you could find time for a castle tour,” the prince prompts, looking at Madeleine.

“Of course, she will,” Melissa laughs lightly, waving her hand as if she finds the notion of Madeleine being busy with her own life ridiculous.

Dan suppresses a groan and only smiles pleasantly at the queen. “Wonderful,” he says, tone clipped, and reaches for his teacup again. If only he could drown in it. Ugh.

His tattoos flare up again, reacting to his emotions, and Dan quickly drops his hand. The prince pushes his fingers under the sleeve of his shirt, exhaling slowly while stroking over the glowing sigils. The quiet magical buzzing fades away as Dan’s tattoos calm down.

“Maybe you two could go after lunch,” Melissa offers, though it sounds more like an order. Dan’s little breakdown goes right over her head.

“I have a violin lesson,” Madeleine speaks up, frowning at her mother, her fingers clutching at her dress so violently that her knuckles are white.

The queen is spreading blueberry jam on a pastry, extremely intent on her task so she can’t even look up at her daughter. “You and your music again,” Melissa sighs. “There’ll be time for your lessons. Now we have guests to entertain,” the queen smiles at Dan for the umpteenth time.

The princess looks down, jaw locked tight, and doesn’t talk back. Dan has no idea what’s so important to Madeleine about violin lessons but he doesn’t want to take it from her. He’s not _that_ much of a jerk, despite what media says.

“Actually,” he says, reaching for Madeleine’s hand and wrapping his fingers around her wrist, squeezing reassuringly. “I’m meeting my brother and sister after lunch,” Dan lies, staring straight into the queen’s eyes. “Maybe we could meet up tomorrow morning,” he purposefully directs his gaze to Madeleine.

The girl is watching his hand on hers but lifts her head and her lips quirk up, smile grateful. “Yes, that would be lovely,” she answers. She disentangles her fingers from her skirt and cautiously twines their fingers together.

“Great,” Dan nods, keeping their fingers tangled. He looks back at the queen across the table. “So,” he says, wondering what kind of topic would get Melissa engaged enough that she’d back off Dan and Madeleine. “How do you think the union between Serelia and Polis will affect the international scene of politics?”

The queen narrows her eyes at him slightly but launches into a detailed rant about how the king of Polis shouldn’t have agreed on the union in the first place. Dan’s intuition pays back once more. He smiles as Madeleine squeezes his fingers in thanks.

***

The storm keeps raging on, unsettling Dan more and more. Maybe he should’ve taken Phil on that offer to get him an herbal mix; Dan himself is not very adept at that aspect of being a mage. Truth be told, he’s got only the basics and some of the more advanced spells used in fights down to a t. He even stopped earning sigils after his mother’s death. He’s shit at magic and he knows it. The only reason he keeps practising is so that the power wouldn’t consume his body and soul if left uncontrolled.

The prince stares at his own reflection in the dark glass of the window. His eyes skim over his tattoos: barely twenty of them, covering his forearm and a bit of his bicep. Pathetic for a mage his age. But then Dan’s always been kind of a disappointment to his family. He’s the oldest so he should keep up the image of his family but instead he’s always getting in trouble and starring in tabloids, always the centre figure of any scandal in his kingdom.

Fuck, he’s a fuck up. Dan gulps down the remains of his whiskey. It doesn’t burn out the shame and guilt that built up over the years from the pit of his stomach.

However, now he’s got a way to make it all up to his family. If he marries Madeleine, forges a union with her country, his succession to the throne will be secured and his kingdom will have some badly needed allies that will come with Madeleine’s country. And everyone will get a happy ending.

Dan frowns at his reflection. He can’t fuck this up. Not this and not now. He should stop making those awful decisions and take up some responsibilities. It’s time to remake himself into a responsible adult.

There’s a snort from his bed, and Dan turns to Sebastian. The clairvoyant is sitting on the prince’s bed, leaning back on his hands.

“You do realise that you decide to ‘remake’ yourself every time you’re drunk, right?” Bass lifts an unimpressed eyebrow.

“Did I say all that out loud?” Dan asks, brows knitting in confusion. And yeah, his speech is totally slurred. Maybe he _is_ drunk.

Sebastian rolls his eyes. “Yeah, you did, and yeah, you are,” a corner of his lips lifts upwards in a little amused smile. He nods to a table next to Dan where a nearly empty bottle of whiskey sits.

“I drank all that?” The prince keeps frowning, he finds this whole conversation very confusing all of a sudden. It was easier to keep track when he thought he was monologue-ing to himself.

“You said you couldn’t sleep, remember?” Bass asks, lifting his eyebrows.

Something clicks in Dan’s memory, and he bobs his head up and down a couple times in acknowledgement.

“The storm,” Dan motions to the pitch black window with his empty tumbler. “It’s messing with my head, man.”

The clairvoyant sighs and stands up, coming to stand next to Dan. “This whole place is messed up,” he says, sounding disgruntled. Bass takes the tumbler out of Dan’s hand, placing it on the table with the drinks, and getting him a glass of water instead. “My visions keep getting blocked. And it’s getting harder for me to read people. There’s some serious shit happening here. And not the exciting kind.”

“Yeah,” Dan mumbles, not really listening. He takes the offered glass of water and gulps some of the liquid. “I haven’t done anything exciting with Phil either,” he informs his friend. Bass was talking about some exciting things happening, right? This isn’t that off-topic, Dan assumes. Besides, he needs his friend’s opinion.

“And I shouldn’t, should I?” He turns his whole body towards Sebastian, and the room spins a bit. What the hell is up with that? Dan dismisses it with a shake of his head. “I mean, it’s a bad idea, right? Like, me losing my throne if anyone finds out about us level of bad. By the Five,” the prince wails, running a hand down his face, suddenly feeling extremely guilt ridden and desperate.

“What have I done, Bass?” He clutches onto Sebastian’s shirt. He needs to make him understand how serious of an issue this is. “He’s the king’s bastard and I’m trying to get him into bed. And, I mean, the sex would be phenomenal,” he sighs wistfully, “‘cause we’re both mages but he’s Madeleine’s half-brother,” Dan shakes Bass to emphasise the words.

“And what if I fall in love with him or something?” The prince near whispers, eyes wide, terrified to even voice that thought out loud. “Bass, I’m such a fuck up,” he sobs, pressing his face into Sebastian’s shoulder, seeking reassurance and comfort from his friend.

“Oh, for the sake of the Five,” the clairvoyant sighs, awkwardly patting Dan on the back. “I hate it when you get drunk on whiskey. You get all dramatic and whiney. Should’ve gotten you drunk on tequila,” he grumbles.

“It’s not the whiskey, Bass,” the prince, as his friend has already observed, whines pathetically. “It’s me. I’m a failure,” he whimpers, lifting his head up and pouting at his friend.

The clairvoyant rolls his eyes and in the flattest tone possible recites, “You’re not a failure, Dan. You will make your father proud and your country happy.”

The prince’s smile is a bit watery as he pats Sebastian on the shoulder. “Thanks, Bass. You’re the best.”

“That I am,” he mutters, mostly to himself. “Now let’s get you into bed.”

Dan allows Sebastian to lead him to the bed. Not that Dan needs any help whatsoever. It’s just that the ground won’t stay still for some reason, making walking a bit of a challenge. Stupid gravitation or whatever. Dan frowns at the floorboards all the way to his bed.

His friend tucks him in, places a glass of water on Dan’s bedside table, and pats him on the cheek, grinning. “You’re so gonna hate yourself tomorrow,” Bass laughs lightly.

***

The prince is having breakfast with his family. Well, he’s drinking copious amounts of liquids (non-alcoholic this time, actually, never again alcoholic, ugh) and is keeping his head in his hand or pressed against the table top at all times while his family is having breakfast. Dan’s is so not a fan of his past self at this moment.

“How much _did_ you have to drink?” Mathias’s voice booms too loudly in Dan’s ears and he groans.

The brunet turns his head to the side, cheek pressed to his folded arms that are on the table, and gives his brother the best glare he manages. It makes Mathias grin even harder.

“Should I tell Madeleine that you’re not meeting her then?” Elora asks.

Dan blearily looks past Mathias, to their sister, who’s also got her mouth quirked up in amusement. Fuck his family and their tendency to find pleasure in his obvious pain. No matter that it’s self-inflicted and not that serious. The fact of the matter is that they should be trying to help him instead of sitting there smirking like lunatics. He hates the whole lot of them.

Dan turns his head back into his arms, pouting. “I demand a refund for this awful family,” he mutters.

There’s a slap on his back, and Mathias’s booming laughter. “Sorry, big bro. You’re stuck with us.”

Dan frowns but it’s rather futile as neither of his annoying siblings can see his expression, and he’s so not moving his head again because he’s quite sure he’ll throw up if he does. He feels like dying.

“Maybe we should call the castle healer,” Dan’s father’s worried voice reaches his ears.

And thank the Five for that wonderful man. At least someone is taking this seriously. Dan lifts his head up slightly, smiling at his father gratefully.

“However, a good parent would have their child learn from their mistakes. It seems to me you still haven’t learned how to drink responsibly so maybe I should just leave you to suffer though this,” the king says thoughtfully, folding away his newspaper, and then he grins at Mathias and Elora.

Ugh. The whole fucking lot of them, Dan hates them.

“You’re all gonna end up in the darkest corner of the Underworld,” he points his finger at each of the three of them, scowling.

“At least we’ll be together,” Elora shrugs a shoulder, and they laugh while Dan’s scowl deepens.

He’s about to retort when, behind him, the chamber door opens.

“And he lives!” Sebastian’s voice is too loud and cheerful. Dan hates him too.

The prince turns his scowl the clairvoyant’s way. It has zero effect on him. Actually, Bass’s grin widens. The fucker.

“Traitor,” Dan declares, now pointing at Sebastian. “You’re in cahoots with them,” he nods his head at his family. He regrets that as soon as a sharp pain pierces his skull. Fuck his entire existence.

“Oh, man,” Bass laughs, coming closer. “You look like shit.”

Dan gives his friend the blankest, most unimpressed look he can manage. “And now you’re insulting your prince.” Dan turns to his father. Slowly, of course. Sudden movements are not his friend today. “You should arrest him for treason and contempt.”

The king hides a smile behind his cup of coffee. “Son, you should be prepared to hear the truth from your future head councillor and respect it.”

Mathias snorts but has the decency to mask it as a cough.

“Besides,” Sebastian says, smirking. “I have something for you.” He waves around a glass vial with a vile looking green liquid inside.

Dan only frowns in confusion.

“I met Phil this morning,” Bass explains. “He heard from several maids that you’re feeling ‘under the weather’,” he actually uses air quotes. And of fucking course nothing can stay a secret in this castle. “Said this would help,” he holds up the vial once more.

The prince’s heart does that stuttery thing again. He should get that checked out or something. Or maybe it’s his heart giving out because of the overconsumption of alcohol. That could happen.

Dan makes grabby hands at Sebastian, mumbling out, “You’re the absolute best, I love you so much right now.”

Bass laughs and tosses him the vial. Dan catches it with clumsy hands, making Mat snort again, but Dan doesn’t care as his salvation is seconds away. He pops the cap and downs the liquid in one go. It tastes colossally dreadful but after a few seconds Dan can already feel the headache lifting and the churning in his stomach calming down.

“I take it back,” the prince says, mood instantly lifting. “Phil’s the absolute best,” he grins at Sebastian, who only rolls his eyes.

“You’re not yet done with that guy?” Elora asks, managing to sound both exasperated and surprised.

“Done with?” The king lifts his eyebrows at his oldest son. “I wasn’t aware you planned on starting anything with him.”

“Busted,” Mathias mumbles into his toast and takes a big bite out of it.

Shit. He _is_ busted. Dan’s father will so not be happy about the prince’s semi-not-even-really-real-relationship with Phil, especially knowing Dan’s nature. So Dan does what Dan knows best. He lies.

“We’re not doing anything,” technically, not a lie. Dan could pat himself on the back for managing at least that one. “And I’m not planning on doing anything with him, I swear,” _now_ the lies spill out. “We’re mostly talking about magic and spells. It’s not like I have anyone to talk about it with anymore,” he says without filtering the words.

 _Low blow_ , Dan thinks to himself. And the prince officially hates himself as he watches _that_ look pass over his father’s face. The awfully sad, pained one he gets whenever anyone mentions anything even slightly connected to Dan’s mother. Like Dan did now.

The king only nods, dropping the topic entirely like Dan thought he would. The mood suddenly turns sombre, and Dan can only blame himself. Elora’s staring off into the middle distance, Mathias is chewing sullenly on his toast, and Dan stands up, needing to escape.

“I’m going training with Bass,” the brunet announces to no one in particular. He doesn’t look at their response, only turns around and flees, not caring if Sebastian actually follows him.

And he thought talking with Phil helped him get over it at least a bit as he didn’t feel like choking on air then. So much for that, apparently. He’s nearly as bad as his father.

***

Dan spends the rest of the morning in a shitty mood that he brought upon himself. No wonder that his meeting (date?) with Madeleine turns out not so brilliant. The prince is irritable and keeps snapping at the girl when she’s only trying to be nice. There’s that anxiety back in his gut, and he has a difficult time controlling his tattoos, which only flares his anger even more.

He feels like a right jerk when Madeleine abandons him after an hour, making up an excuse and near running away from him. Dan’s just surprised she soldiered through that much. He’ll have to apologise for that later, after he sorts himself out.

For the time being, he hunts down Sebastian and drags him to the training centre. They start running laps; Dan’s pushing himself as much as possible until he feels like collapsing. Then he only slows down the pace, matching it to Bass’s.

“Wanna talk about it?” Sebastian questions carefully, eyeing Dan with worry.

The prince shakes his head. He’s never talked to anyone about his mother’s death, he never grieved with his family, he only locked himself away in his room for a month and then emerged like nothing happened. It worked for the first half a year or so. Now Dan feels like he’s bursting at the seams, like he’s crumbling down, and he can’t repair himself fast enough. Maybe ignoring it until it goes away wasn’t the best tactic to use for this situation.

“It wasn’t your fault, you know,” Sebastian assures Dan not for the first time. And why the fuck is he still talking when Dan said he didn’t want to? “They would’ve killed both of you if she hadn’t done what she did.”

“Stop, Bass,” Dan warns the other. “I don’t wanna talk about it.” He ups his speed, physically running away from the problem. Yeah, that’s been working so fucking great for him.

“I know you think you got her killed but it wasn’t you fault, Dan,” Sebastian presses on, keeping to Dan’s new pace. “When you finally realise that maybe you’ll let yourself grieve and the panic you feel every time you think about her will stop.”

Dan doesn’t feel panic _every_ time he thinks about her. The memories he has of her are nice, comforting in a way, he like sharing them. With Phil, at least. It’s only when he remembers that he’s the reason she’s dead that the panic seeps in.

“I said,” the prince grits through his teeth. Yep, totally dealing with this brilliantly. “I don’t want to talk about it, _Sebastian_.”

“You never did and you never do,” Sebastian suddenly bursts out, pushing at Dan’s shoulder angrily. They stop. “By the Five, do you ever think about anyone else but yourself?” The clairvoyant is now frowning at him, angry. What the fuck does _he_ have to be angry about?

“The hell you’re talking about?” Dan asks, perplexed.

Sebastian groans, running a hand down his face. “Mathias, Elora, your father,” he says, staring imploringly at Dan like he needs him to understand some difficult problem. “You think they’re that stupid to not notice how you’re just ‘fine’? How you’re just dealing with it, never talking about it, never helping _them_ deal with it?” He’s gesticulating wildly, which only proves how agitated Bass actually is as he’s normally very well composed.

“And what about me?” The clairvoyant wonders. “She was like a mother to me too. I lost her too, Dan. And I had to step into her shoes to train you. You think that’s easy for me?”

The prince gnaws on his lip, glancing down and away. “I never thought about it like that,” he whispers.

“Of course, you didn’t,” Bass snorts, not amused. “You always think only about yourself. As if it’s only you who grieves your mother, like it’s only you who has to make a sacrifice and marry someone he doesn’t care for, as if only your life is a complicated mess.

What about Elora marrying that guy from the east in two years? She’ll leave her home forever and she’ll have to adapt to a new culture like no big deal. How about me being stuck here with my powers going haywire when they’re the only source for me to know that my sister hasn’t died from malaria yet? Did you even know I left her sick to come here for _you_?”

“I –” Dan tries but nothing else comes out. He knew all along that he’s a selfish prick but having it thrown in his face by his best friend is a totally different experience. He didn’t realise he’s been _this_ bad.

“Right,” Sebastian nods, lips pressed into a thin line. And then he marches off, leaving Dan alone.

The brunet groans, tugging at strands of his hair. And he thought today couldn’t get worse. It seems the universe loves proving him wrong.

***

Once again Dan’s dreams are plagued with nightmares. He doesn’t know if it’s the weather, or the castle’s aura or some shit, or maybe the fight he had with Bass that affects his sleep but it’s annoying and he wants it to stop. The prince tosses and turns all night long while the wind howls loudly behind his windows, snow whipping into the glass like it made it its mission to break in. Dan wakes up completely exhausted and still in a bad mood. Which, just perfect.

Everyone avoids the prince as much as he avoids them too. Sebastian even cancels the training session and doesn’t have the decency to inform Dan of that himself; the clairvoyant sends a message boy. Elora is busy with the princesses doing whatever the hell girls do; knitting or maybe plotting world domination, whichever. Only Mathias agrees to have lunch with Dan, talking his ear off about a werewolf he hooked up with last night and what incredible stamina weres have. Dan doesn’t add much to the conversation so Mat leaves early. Yep, Dan’s great company today.

So that’s how the prince ends up holed up in his chamber for the rest of the day, meditating unsuccessfully as his mind refuses to shut up and cooperate. He feels miserable and needs a distraction but his only option is reading one of the books he brought. And thus Dan reads. Or tries to at the very least.

Dan startles awake when a loud bang resonates through his chamber. The screams from the nightmare still echo in his mind, he can feel the sticky blood on his skin, can still see the mangled corpses before his eyes. The prince blinks several times, realising where he is. Dan’s heartbeat is rabbitting already and it kicks up another notch when a thud makes him jump.

Confused, he looks around, lifting his head off the book to which his cheek was previously pressed. From his position – lying on his belly, lifting his upper body on his forearms – he can’t see what caused the noise, so Dan sits up, craning his head to the side.

One of the windows has been slammed open, the frame still rattling from the strong gusts of wind that are making home in the prince’s chamber. The candles flicker before the wind puts them out harshly, grey smoke billowing in the near darkness. A shiver runs down Dan’s spine.

The prince gets up, not bothering to ignite the dead candles. He inches to the window. Snowflakes drift furiously inside, trying to create a snow bank right under the windowsill. Dread pools in Dan’s belly for some reason; he’s never been a fan of the dark but this shouldn’t affect him this strongly. It does though. Fingers shaking, Dan reaches for the frame of the window, wrapping the digits around it. He doesn’t shut it.

Dan peers into the raging storm, thinking he sees something there. It’s ridiculous, of course, as he’s on the third floor, and there’s nothing but air and snowflakes in front of his window. But a shriek pierces through the night and the raging of the storm, making Dan’s heart jump into overdrive. Blood pounding loudly in his ears, Dan quickly shuts the window, trembling fingers finding difficulty locking it up but he manages.

 _A castle of nightmares_ , Dan thinks about this place as he’s breathing heavily leaning his back on the hopefully shut for good window. Another shudder runs through Dan’s body, raising goose bumps onto his skin.

Ugh. Fuck this shit.

The mage wakes up one of his sigils, whispers an incantation, and all the candles in the room burst into life. The sudden flood of light and warmth calms Dan down somewhat but he no longer wants to be alone.

He glances at the clock. A few minutes after one a.m. Maybe a bit too late to be visiting someone, though Dan scraps that idea as he pushes himself off the window and heads for the door.

The chamber he’s looking for is not one Dan’s been to before so that complicates finding it. But he’s asked for directions a couple days prior just because. He knows it’s on the second floor, in the south wing, farthest from anyone else. So Dan wanders in what he thinks is the right direction, a small ball of light in his left palm illuminates his path and keeps him from freaking out completely.

The prince stops in front of the intricately carved door. The four elements are represented on it out of wrought black iron, swirling together. Dan raps his knuckles on the empty space in the middle.

He counts to ten, thinking he won’t be answered, feeling the dread and anxiety creeping around the edges of his conscious. But as he’s about to turn away, the door opens. Dan gulps audibly, blinking a couple times at Phil.

The water mage is leaning against the door, his hair is mussed, shirt open with sleeves rolled up, and Dan nearly salivates at the sight of tattoos creeping down Phil’s chest. Overall, Phil looks soft and comforting, and sexy and fuckable at the same time. There’s an already familiar stir of lust in Dan’s lower regions as well as that fucking annoying fluttering of his heart.

“Dan?” Phil says, brows knitting in confusion.

The fluttering intensifies when Dan realises it’s the first time Phil’s actually said his name. By the Five, that shouldn’t be as exciting as it is.

“Yeah, sorry,” Dan responds after a couple of beats. “I –” He rakes his eyes over Phil’s form again before focusing. “I couldn’t sleep. Thought maybe your offer of that herbal mix still stands,” a lie because Dan’s decision was nothing but impulse in seeking comfort. Clearly, Dan doesn’t know how to have a conversation without lying at least once. Plus, his impulse control is bloody awful.

“Oh,” Phil blinks at him a couple times, caught off guard still. His familiar makes an appearance, glaring at Dan with disgust. Dan hates that fucking fox and its expressive face. “Of course, come in,” Phil steps aside, letting Dan pass.

Phil’s chamber is smaller than Dan’s but looks cosier and more lived-in. A fire roars in the fireplace, making it the main source of light. The right wall (except for the fireplace that’s installed in it) is nothing but shelves stocked with jars and vials and tins of herbs and magical items, there’s also books, and other random trinkets. The bed is shoved against the wall opposite the door but there’s a desk, covered in a frighteningly large amount of papers, in the space between the door and the bed. A couple of windows make up the left wall, nothing but darkness behind them.

“Wanna sit?” Phil offers, pointing to a chair in front of the desk.

Dan just nods, walking over and lowering himself into the comfy chair. There are candles scattered on various surfaces, making Dan sigh silently, a calm washing over him. The anxiety and the memories of the nightmare are already leaving Dan’s body. Maybe Phil has some magical calming presence on top of being a mage.

Phil’s shuffling over by the shelves, collecting the necessary herbs. His soul animal is sitting pointedly not three feet away from Dan, watching him intently as if Dan’s about to steal something and make a run for it. Is that fox paranoid or what?

Ignoring the soul animal is becoming a second nature to Dan so he skims over the papers on the table instead of getting worked up by how hostile Phil’s familiar is being. A map with four red x marks catches his attention first. Then there seem to be reports of murders, as detailed as possible. Such phrases as ‘missing upper body’ or ‘scattered entrails’ make Dan turn his eyes away. A few drawings are shoved up in the furthest corner of the table, and Dan gets off his ass to check those out. He wishes he hadn’t.

The phrases he read earlier make a physical appearance as Dan stares at the drawings with wide eyes. They depict mauled bodies, blood soaking the white snow, insides lying around, at least what’s left of them. One of the corpses is missing half the body, another only an arm, they’re all clawed beyond recognition. The colours and the scenes are too vivid for those to be simple drawings, and Dan soon realises magic is involved. Probably memories captured on paper. Dan can’t imagine seeing this in real life.

“That’s my investigation,” Phil murmurs, too close to Dan, making him jump. “Sorry,” he says, a corner of his lips quirking up as he puts a hand on Dan’s hip. “There have been four so far,” Phil directs his attention back to the pictures; his hand stays on Dan. “I hope no more happens during the blizzard but this,” he taps a finger over one picture, a close up of something resembling a paw print in the blood, “is supernatural in nature so maybe the blizzard is an excuse for more murders,” he sighs wearily.

Phil’s biting his lip, looking over the evidence. This close Dan can clearly see the black circles under his eyes, the unnatural paleness of his skin. The murder investigation is obviously taking a toll on him.

And then Dan does something he has zero explanation for. He kisses Phil. Of course, it’s not like he hasn’t wanted to do that since they met but right now is hardly the time as they were just discussing gruesome murders, and the mood wasn’t even right, and Phil hasn’t indicated he’d even welcome Dan’s advances. Still, the prince just turns his head, surging forwards and connecting their lips clumsily. Again, poor impulse control.

Phil jumps slightly, surprised, his hand falling from Dan’s hip. The brunet stills at once, beginning to pull away, but then Phil’s kissing back, fully turning towards Dan, his arms pulling the prince closer. Dan melts right on the spot as their chests and crotches press together. A moan escapes past Dan’s lips, and Phil takes advantage of that, delving his tongue into the prince’s mouth.

The kiss turns heated and frantic in an instant. Phil presses Dan against the table, the prince clambering on top of it, without breaking the kiss. Dan wraps his legs around Phil’s waist, keeping him close, his fingers tangling into those dark locks as the kiss deepens. Phil’s fingers travel down Dan’s sides and under his shirt, skimming over the naked flesh, making Dan shiver and let out another moan.

Phil smirks against Dan’s lips before pulling away, trailing open mouthed kisses along the column of Dan’s neck. The brunet tilts his head back, giving Phil more access. Dan’s eyes fall shut as he hums in pleasure.

Turns out this is even better than Dan thought it would be. He can already feel his tattoos thrumming with energy, magic buzzes in the air, charging it. Dan’s skin is tingling in the most delightful way, amping up every touch of Phil’s lips and fingertips at least ten times.

Phil bites at Dan’s collarbone, pressing them even closer together. Dan can feel Phil’s as excited about this as Dan himself is. So the prince disentangles his fingers from Phil’s hair, trailing his digits down Phil’s naked chest to his crotch, teasingly stroking over the bulge. Phil shivers, groaning into Dan’s throat where he was busy leaving a mark. Dan’s lips curl upwards.

Phil mashes their lips back together. They’re licking into each other’s mouths, nipping at one another’s lips, breathing heavily. Dan blindly pushes at Phil’s shirt.

“Off, off, off,” he chants into Phil’s mouth, making him laugh.

The shirt flutters to the ground soon enough, and then Phil’s fingers are working at Dan’s buttons. The prince doesn’t much care as now he’s got more skin to explore. He disconnects their lips, attaching his own to Phil’s shoulder, licking over a sigil, biting at it. The tattoo flares up in icy blue, sending a tingling into Dan’s lips.

The prince keeps mouthing at Phil’s skin while the other finishes with those pesky buttons. Dan’s shirt is off too, landing behind him on the table. Then Phil’s hands glide down Dan’s back, wrapping around his hips, and Phil grinds their crotches together. And by the Five it feels amazing.

“Fuck, yes,” Dan near hisses into Phil’s ear. Then he’s latching onto it, skimming his teeth over the earlobe. Phil reacts by pulling Dan back and kissing him thoroughly, desperately.

Dan smirks when he can feel light flooding the room even when his eyes are closed. The buzzing of magic intensifies, and a pleasurable shock runs down Dan’s spine, making him moan. But then Phil’s pulling away, and Dan’s eyes fly open, fingers wrapping around the other’s biceps, keeping him from entirely escaping.

Now that Dan can see, his mouth hangs open. Phil’s tattoos are flared up in blues, whites, and purples, clashing beautifully with Dan’s oranges and reds. Both their sigils are nearly vibrating with the energy.

“What?..” Phil turns wide eyes to Dan, looking him over too.

“Haven’t had sex with another mage?” Dan lifts an eyebrow, smirking. “It’s way more intense than with anyone else. It’s, like, your every sense is more pronounced,” Dan exemplifies his words by running his fingertips down Phil’s arm, making him shiver in pleasure. “And the orgasms are mind-blowing. The whole experience is just,” he nearly laughs but manages to only grin, “magical.”

Phil’s fingers glide over Dan’s collarbone experimentally. It’s the simplest of touches but it has a more pronounced effect as they’re both mages. The prince hums, enjoying the tingle of pleasure that travels straight to his head, making it difficult to think. He opens his eyes, having no idea when he closed them, and tilts his head to the side, regarding Phil curiously.

“Wanna stop?” He asks. Dan knows from experience that the first time with another mage can be a bit overwhelming, especially if you didn’t know how intense this can get.

“No,” Phil shakes his head slightly, fingertips now caressing Dan’s sides, eliciting a moan from the prince.

“Good,” Dan mumbles out before connecting their lips again.

Their make-out session continues, gaining back the desperation and frenzy it had before they stopped. Dan maps out Phil’s body with his fingers as much as his mouth, and Phil graciously returns the favour. They’re rutting against each other, Dan clutching at Phil’s hair, Phil bruising Dan’s hips with his hold, both of them trembling messes of want, desire, lust.

Dan dips his hands down, reaching for Phil’s belt and undoing it with practised ease. Phil quickly takes the hint and starts working on Dan’s. Dan pushes Phil’s jeans and his underwear down, lifting his hips up so Phil could do the same for him. And then they have their hands around each other, both groaning too loudly.

The air is charged with energy, sparks are actually zipping around them, and Dan feels like vibrating out of his skin with pleasure. He strokes Phil, only slightly stuttering in his movements when Phil flicks his wrist just right or thumbs over his slit with the tiniest of pressures. Dan whines from the stimulation, his forehead landing on Phil’s shoulder, and he bites at the collarbone, the tattoo on it flaring up even more, sending a sting into Dan’s lips.

The whole experience is intoxicating. Fuck, Dan forgot how actually amazing this can be. The magic charging the air makes his head spin as much as the lust he feels, as much as every instance of skin on skin contact makes him tremble and chant Phil’s name. Intense is an understatement for how this feels right now.

Phil’s breathing harshly into his ear, mumbling some nonsense words, his hips, as well as Dan’s, moving along with the movements of their hands. It’s ridiculously perfect even though they’re just exchanging handjobs. Dan fucking loves this part of being a mage.

It doesn’t take long for Dan’s orgasm to start building up. A few more of Phil’s amazing strokes, a kiss to Dan’s neck followed by the scrape of teeth along the sensitive skin, and Dan’s tumbling over the edge. His mind is white noise for a few seconds after. The prince is completely blissed out, relaxed, calm for the first time since he came to this damned castle.

When he gets back to some of his senses, he finishes Phil off too, watching his face as he reaches the high. Phil, like Dan, is useless a few moments after, brain shutting off, leaving nothing but the feeling of the utmost pleasure in its stead.

Dan smirks at Phil when the other mage finally opens his eyes, pupils blown wide, not a scrap of blue in sight. Their tattoos are still glowing but it’s diminishing minute by minute. Phil leans forward, placing a chaste kiss on Dan’s lips before pulling away.

“Oh, wow,” Dan laughs, running his clean hand over his hair, mussing it up even more. “That was amazing or what,” he grins at Phil and receives a tentative smile in return. “We should totally repeat this. And soon.”

The energy seeps out of the air, their sigils returning to their natural black colour. Dan slides off the table, grabbing Phil’s discarded shirt, holding it up. “Mind if I use this?” He asks.

Phil shakes his head in response, stepping back and turning away, walking to what Dan assumes is the bathroom. Dan cleans himself off, dropping the shirt back onto the floor. But before he can tuck himself back in, Phil returns.

“This should be more useful,” he says, handing Dan a wet towel. Phil’s cheeks are flushed, black eyes sparkling in the candlelight, he looks well fucked, but he’s not really meeting Dan’s eyes.

“Thanks, man,” Dan grins either way, he’s on a high after finally getting what he wanted.

When Dan’s already clean as can be and he’s buckling his belt, he turns around to the table to get his shirt. The fox emerges from the Five know where, jumping onto the chair, hissing at Dan, showing off its perfectly white sharp teeth. The prince only lifts an eyebrow at it and grabs his shirt.

“Do you – umm,” Phil near whispers behind him. Dan turns to him, buttoning up his shirt.

“Yeah?” He smiles when Phil keeps silent.

Phil’s eyes flicker from his bed to Dan, and he slightly shakes his head. The mage sighs, wearily, running a hand down his face. “Do you still want those herbs?” He asks, and Dan’s got a feeling that’s not what he wanted to ask in the first place.

“Nah,” Dan responds. “I think you’ve helped me enough,” he winks at Phil but the mage doesn’t even give Dan a half smile. The prince frowns, coming closer to Phil and cupping his cheek. “Is everything alright?”

Phil regards him for a moment too long before nodding minutely and managing a smile. “Yeah, fine,” he says.

“Okay,” Dan murmurs dubiously. He bites his lip, a million questions and thoughts running through his brain, but he keeps it all to himself. “See you tomorrow?” The prince asks instead.

Phil nods in response but there’s something in his expression that Dan can’t quite pinpoint that’s unnerving the prince. Phil indulges Dan’s scrutiny for a few moments. “I have to get back to work,” the mage says, waving to the scattered papers, most of which are now on the floor.

“Alright,” Dan draws back, losing all contact points. He reaches the door, pulling it open. “Goodnight, Phil,” he says.

“Goodnight, Your Grace,” Phil answers, turning away, shuffling with the papers.

Dan’s heart clenches instead of fluttering, and the prince has no idea why. Phil hasn’t really used Dan’s name in conversation before but this time feels different. Like a statement of sorts. Dan ignores it. He just nods and leaves, dread slowly replacing his blissed out state the closer he gets to his own chamber.

So far ignoring his problems has worked brilliantly for him anyway, right?


	5. 15 days until Winter Solstice

On the sixth morning of staying in the horrible land of winter, the prince wakes up, surprisingly, to sunshine on his face. It warms his cheek and makes him stretch like a cat before he pries his eyes open and blinks furiously, getting used to the onslaught of light. His mood is lifted instantly, and he manages a smile even though his head pounds with pain after another night of disturbing dreams that even the distraction of Phil couldn’t quite abolish. But there’s sunshine, and Dan no longer feels like he wants to crawl out of his skin so he ignores the ache in favour of basking in the sunlight.

He slips out of bed, going to the balcony windows and staring outside. His balcony is filled to the brim, snow reaching half the glass door, but Dan pulls it open anyway. The prince jumps aside as a heap of snow rolls inside, and he’s already murmuring an incantation and waking the triangle sigil on his forearm. Using his magic, Dan quickly gets rid of the snow, and even of the puddles of water it creates as it melts, and steps onto the balcony, breathing in deeply.

There are no words how good it feels to finally be outside again. He soaks up the sunlight just standing there with his head tilted upwards and hands outstretched at his sides. A smile plays on his lips.

After he’s gotten enough of that, skin feeling tingly, Dan steps closer to the rails, looking over the grounds. There are already people with shovels, clearing up paths, but other than that everything is completely and pristinely white.

Dan’s breathing the fresh air, watching the people work, having the most relaxed morning in this castle since he came here. So, of course, it has to be ruined.

“You’ll get pneumonia or something one day,” Sebastian’s voice sounds from behind him, and the prince turns to look at his best friend.

“So you’re talking to me again?” Dan can’t stop the words from spilling out, and way more harshly than he intended. Which, not fair, obviously, as he’s not the one who is allowed to feel indignant and angry in this situation.

Bass only lifts an eyebrow, crossing his arms, absolutely done with Dan’s bullshit.

“Yeah, okay,” the prince sighs, shoulders sagging as he leans on the banister behind him. “I’m sorry. I was a total jerkface, and I totally deserved you scolding me like I was five,” he admits, albeit grudgingly. It’s not that Dan’s not feeling truly sorry, it’s more to do with the fact that he’s a prince and he was raised thinking that he can never do anything worth apologising for. So it’s difficult for him. At least, over the years, he managed to realise when he’d done something wrong. A nearly impossible task for a royal.

The clairvoyant scoffs. “You deserve more than that but I know how miserable you get without me,” he smirks, and Dan rolls his eyes in answer. “So what mess did you get yourself into while I was ignoring you?”

“I am perfectly capable of not getting into messes without your supervision,” the brunet sulks.

“Like that one time when I was gone for fifteen hours, and you convinced yourself it was a brilliant idea to sleep with one of your father’s councillors?” Bass looks completely unimpressed.

Dan scowls even more. Admittedly, that was not one of his brightest ideas but he thought they were past mentioning it.

“I’ll have you know that I was the perfect gentleman the past two days,” the prince crosses his arms, puffing his chest out a bit and lifting his chin.

“Right,” Sebastian nods a couple times. “So the fact that everyone’s been avoiding you is just a rumour then?” He smirks. The bastard.

Dan narrows his eyes at his best friend. “I had lunch with Mat,” he replies, scathingly.

“Oh, yeah,” this time Bass is the one to roll his eyes. “Having lunch with your brother, the pinnacle of your social life.”

“Fuck off,” Dan mutters as he passes by Sebastian, purposefully knocking into his shoulder, and heading for his trunks; he hasn’t managed to unpack yet. “Like you didn’t lock yourself in your room and sulk without my most delightful company.”

The prince can’t keep the smile completely off his face even though he tries. It’s only been a day and he’s missed the easy banter that comes with Bass. There aren’t many people in his life that he can be so comfortable with.

“Absolutely,” Bass responds, and though Dan’s turned away from him and struggling to put on a t-shirt, the prince is sure Sebastian has that amused quirk to his lips. “Whatever would I do without Your Royal Highness and your wonderful presence.”

Dan hears the balcony door click shut before he manages to put his head through the right hole. “Yep,” Dan pops the p as he grabs his skinny jeans. “You should learn to appreciate me more,” he smirks at Bass over his shoulder and pulls on the jeans.

“Seems like someone did that for me,” Sebastian mumbles, staring at Dan’s neck when the prince turns to him.

The brunet lifts an eyebrow in question. His friend comes closer, pushing at Dan’s shoulder, turning him to face a wardrobe mirror, and tugging at the loose collar of his too big t-shirt. Right under Dan’s clavicle is a purplish mark. The prince presses a fingertip onto it, making it tingle slightly, and his heart skips a beat. What a traitorous cliché.

“Clearly, I was wrong,” Bass says, letting go of Dan’s shirt and stepping back. “You _have_ been busy without me.”

It shouldn’t affect Dan this much, or at all, to be honest, but the reminder of last night’s activities brings the most brilliant smile to the prince’s face.

“I’m guessing, Phil?” The clairvoyant asks, eyes meeting Dan’s in the reflection of the mirror.

“Yeah,” the brunet sighs, biting his lip, mood falling instantly when he recalls Phil’s behaviour after they were done.

The prince turns away from the mirror and chucks his t-shirt off, replacing it with a button up so the mark wouldn’t be visible. It would do no good for rumours to start spreading.

“Wasn’t as good as you expected?” Sebastian asks, misinterpreting the change in Dan’s mood.

“It was good,” the prince admits, buttoning the shirt and turning to his friend. “But he acted weird afterwards,” Dan makes a face.

Bass shrugs a shoulder. “It’s not like you didn’t tell him not to expect much from this. And if he agreed to have sex with you then it’s his own fault if he regrets it or whatever.”

Right. If Dan had talked to him, or if they had talked about it at all, then maybe. Dan gnaws on his lip again.

“Dan,” Sebastian says, an edge to his tone. “You did talk before, right?”

“Yeah,” Dan draws out, glancing away. “There wasn’t really much time for talking,” he rubs at the nape of his neck. “It was kind of spur of the moment thing.”

“By the Five,” the clairvoyant throws his hands up. “You _really_ should know better, Dan.”

He really should but making the right decision has never been a strong suit of the prince’s.

“It’s not like he doesn’t know the position I’m in anyway,” Dan sulks; putting blame on others is always a good option to not feel guilty yourself. “He’s completely aware that I’m gonna marry his sister and this is just for fun. I didn’t think I had to spell it out for him.” A lie because he meant to talk to Phil but got lost in the moment.

Bass rolls his eyes, not believing Dan’s bullshit but he doesn’t comment. “Come on,” he says instead, “your family’s waiting to have breakfast with you.”

The prince sighs, relieved that his friend chose to drop the topic, and follows him out of the room.

***

Breakfast turns out to be a rather awkward affair. Everyone tries to act normal: Mathias keeps joking, Elora grumbles at Mathias’s crude jokes, Dan supports his brother and their father rolls his eyes at them. But nobody mentions what happened a couple days ago and they certainly don’t talk about their _feelings_ over it or something equally horrendous. The huge pink elephant in the room is ignored. Dan thinks if it is treated so any longer it’ll pop like an overfilled water balloon, drowning them all.

And what kind of writer bullshit is that? Dan scoffs silently to himself. The prince throws the annoying metaphorical thinking aside, it doesn’t do him much good anyway, and pretends there’s nothing wrong as he watches Mathias and Elora squabble over the last strawberry. The usual.

After the meal with his family, the prince has a training session with Bass. He’s walking to the training centre when he sees Phil in the courtyard, talking to a couple of soldiers, seemingly giving them orders. A smile appears on Dan’s lips at the sight of the other man and his heart does that irritating skipping thing but Dan doesn’t care as he crosses over the yard and towards Phil and his wind ruffled hair and his mesmerising eyes and his kissable lips.

And Dan’s mind goes straight to the gutter. Ugh. Keep it in your pants, Howell! At least in public.

“Morning,” the prince says as a greeting, smiling softly, staring only at Phil and ignoring the other two; ignorance seems to be a theme for today.

“Your Grace,” Phil bows, expressionless. His fox bares its teeth at Dan, its blue eyes glinting in the sunlight.

“Your Majesty,” the other two also bow and the fuckers don’t even leave.

It’s silent and awkward (another theme of today’s) for a few seconds before Dan fidgets on the spot. “Can I talk to you alone?” He asks looking at Phil and surreptitiously glancing at the soldiers.

“Of course, Your Grace,” Phil replies and turns to his men. “Have my horse ready in five minutes.”

The guys do the polite dance of bowing, mumbling ‘Your Grace’ to Dan and ‘m’lord’ to Phil before scurrying off, and Dan’s left alone with Phil. He has no idea what he wants to say.

“You’re going somewhere?” The question slips past his lips. Well, it’s better than the awkward silence.

“Yes, Your Grace,” Phil responds, face still infuriatingly blank. “We received ravens from a nearby village. There seem to have been more murders during the blizzard.”

“How long will you be gone?” Dan’s face falls. He expected to spend this night with Phil too. It doesn’t stave off the nightmares, obviously, but just being with Phil calms him down.

“A day or two,” Phil shrugs a shoulder, then as a kind of an afterthought adds, “Your Grace.”

Dan wants to shout at him to drop the polite act and talk like a normal person but there are too many people in the courtyard so he refrains. “So I won’t see you tonight?” The prince says, biting his lip.

“I have a job to do, Your Grace,” Phil suddenly near snarls at him and his familiar actually does so, even coming in to bite Dan on the ankle but the prince steps back. Phil doesn’t even so much as glance at his soul animal to scold it. “But if it please Your Grace, I can drop solving murders of innocent people this instant and be your plaything again,” he shout whispers the last part, glaring at Dan.

The brunet’s jaw drops. What in the name of the Five is he talking about? Like, what the actual fuck?! Dan’s about to unscramble his brain and answer in a coherent manner when one of the soldiers from before walks up to them, leading a horse.

“If Your Grace will excuse me, I have to go,” Phil says, turning away from Dan and jumping into the saddle. “Have a good day.”

The water mage rides off, his fox scoffs at the prince, lifting its head haughtily and prancing after its master. Dan’s left in the courtyard, staring after Phil and feeling cold in the harsh sunlight of mid-winter.

***

“I don’t get it,” Mathias shakes his head. He’s lying on Dan’s bed, his head hanging off the edge and he looks at Dan upside down. “So he _didn’t_ like the sex?” The young prince scrunches up his nose.

“He liked it fine,” the brunet grumbles, flailing with his arms and pacing in front of the bed. “At least it seemed like he liked it last night. I don’t understand why he’s acting so pissed off right now.” Dan huffs and tugs at strands of his hair.

“I mean, it’s pretty obvious,” Elora drawls, swirling wine in her cup. She’s sitting cross-legged on the bed, acting as nonchalant as ever. It unnerves Dan. “You used him and he saw through it and like any other self-respecting person didn’t much like being used.”

“I didn’t use him!” The prince shouts indignant, throwing his arms in the air. “I had a nightmare, went to his room for some herbal mix and the sex just happened!”

Did Phil actually think Dan came to him to _use_ him last night? That’s, of course, basically the truth but Dan was seeking simple company, he didn’t have a master plan of seducing Phil in his mind. Surely, Phil must realise that.

Elora and Mat both snort in disbelief, glancing at each other. And fuck them for not believing him. Dan totally had mostly good intentions when going to Phil, and none of them was to simply make himself feel good.

“So what do I do now?” The prince asks, running a hand through his hair, making it stand on end.

“Who cares?” Elora rolls her eyes. “Why are you so worked up about it? He’s just the king’s bastard. Forget about him and move on to more important matters, for example, wooing Madeleine whom, by the way, you’re going to _marry_.”

“Yeah, Dan,” Mathias agrees. “I can introduce you to someone who’s not gonna flip out like that and I promise you’ll have fun,” he smirks all happy with himself. It looks a bit off though because Mat’s still looking at Dan with his head upside down.

And really, why _does_ Dan care about what Phil’s thinking or feeling? They had one great night, and after this month ends Dan’s never going to see the other mage again. But the sinking feeling in the prince’s stomach and the heaviness in his chest make him want to resolve this issue, to make things right with Phil.

Ugh. Is this how the guilt people keep talking about feels? Dan doesn’t like it one bit.

“Just leave it alone,” Elora adds. “Meet with some of Mathias’s…friends,” she scrunches up her nose at that, “if you really want to have sex with someone that bad. But stop obsessing over a guy you met a week ago.”

“I can match you up with a werewolf,” Mat suggests helpfully. “You like werewolves, don’t you?”

Dan does but he can’t even think about getting together with someone else than Phil right now. And that is weird like shit. The prince has never experienced this and it’s quite unsettling. He frowns at the floor.

“I don’t know,” Dan lands next to Elora, face down into the duvet, groaning. “Your council sucks,” he mumbles, the fabric muffles his words. “You’ll be the worst councillors on earth.”

“Our council is great,” Elora huffs, poking Dan in the side and making him squirm. “You should just stop being a petulant child and accept it.”

“Alright already,” the prince swats at his sister’s hands, turning over to lie on his back. “I’ll just forget about him. Simple.”

“Praise the Five, our brother has actually made a good decision.” Elora salutes them with the wine glass and sips from it, Mathias only grins dopily and Dan frowns at the ceiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's back!! Is anyone excited or has everyone given up on me continuing this?


	6. 14-11 days until Winter Solstice

It’s not simple. Forgetting about Phil proves to be the most difficult thing Dan’s ever had the audacity to think of doing.

After Phil returns from the village where all those murders happened, Dan keeps running into him or constantly catches glimpses of him. During the blizzard, when they all were trapped in the castle, Dan bumped into Phil like twice. Now, when he can go outside and is no longer confined to his chamber, the prince can’t escape the other mage. It’s infuriating.

And Dan’s really trying. But whenever he’s happily flirting with Madeleine and securing the union of his and her countries, Phil just happens to pass by in all his raven-haired blue-eyed glory and Dan loses track of the conversation. Or when he’s training outside with Bass and his tattoos thrum excitedly because Phil rides past on his white mare all tired and stiff and Dan wants to push him on a bed and make him relaxed and satisfied instead.

The whole situation is getting on Dan’s nerves and to top it off the prince can’t even sleep in this damned castle. The nightmares come in full force, leaving him gasping for air in the middle of the night, sheets soaked with sweat and flames on candles nearly reaching the ceiling. He’s just glad he hasn’t set the place on fire yet.

The others are faring better than Dan, though. Melissa and Madeleine are overjoyed that Dan spends most of his free time with the princess, Dan’s father is all for it too, Elora, Mathias and Bass are doing their best to distract Dan from thinking about Phil 24/7. Well, at least when they’re not busy with their own activities.

It rather annoys Dan that everyone seems to be doing fine and he’s the only one suffering crippling anxiety every time it starts getting dark. The prince has no idea what’s up with that because usually nightfall doesn’t affect him that much but for the past few days he can’t help but dread the sundown. It sucks ass.

And he can’t even get drunk and get some sleep that way. Firstly, because it doesn’t help at all, it actually worsens the situation as Dan just can’t wake up from the nightmares when he’s drunk. Secondly, because he can’t deal with the hangover without Phil’s marvellous herb mix which he can’t get because Phil’s ignoring him like Dan’s some annoying bug that’s not worth the other mage’s attention. That sucks ass even more.

But he just grits his teeth together and tries to soldier through, telling himself that he won’t be here much longer, that after the Solstice Dan and his family will go home (his new bride included) and he won’t have to spend another night in this dreadful place. It doesn’t help much.

***

“You’re falling asleep on me, man!” Dan hears Bass’s shout through the hazy fog in his brain.

They’re having a training session and Dan’s more out of it than ever. He hasn’t been sleeping well for the past few days and the naps he catches during the day don’t quite cut it but they’re better than nothing.

“Yeah, I think I’m done for today,” the prince mumbles through a yawn and drops on his ass right where he’s standing in the middle of the arena.

His sigils fade to simple black and Dan leans back on his hands, closing his eyes just for a moment.

“Hey,” Bass kicks at Dan’s shin and the prince glares at the clairvoyant. The little shit smirks. “Are you really that broken up about that bastard that you can’t even sleep?”

That wakes Dan up a bit and he starts a rant. “It’s like, why can’t he just talk to me?” The mage waves one of his hands about.

“Or at least look at me? I can’t even catch his eye and telepathically plead him to hear me out or some shit.” He rubs a hand over his face. Bass sits next to him and pats him on the shoulder awkwardly. Yeah, Dan’s BFF is really not good at the whole consolation via physical contact thing.

“I mean,” Dan continues, pissed off now, “if he just didn’t ignore me for like _one_ second. I don’t ask for much. If he’d give me a minute to explain myself. But no. He’s gotten on this high horse, too proper to talk to me or even look at me, acting like he’s better than me when we both did the deed, I wasn’t the only one having fun that night. Like, what is his problem? I thought we had a good time and now he’s all pissed for no good reason.”

“I think he has his reasons,” Bass mumbles. _Completely unhelpfully_ , might Dan add. The prince glares at him again and shrugs off his hand.

“What in the name of the Five could those reasons be?” Dan frowns. “It’s not like he didn’t know what he was getting into with me. I didn’t force him or anything. So what in the nine rings of the Underworld is his deal?”

Bass sighs, shakes his head minutely then mumbles something under his breath that Dan can’t catch. “Why don’t you just stride into his room and demand answers then? You’re a prince, do what all royals do and take what you want.” The clairvoyant shrugs a shoulder as if it’s that simple.

“You think I haven’t tried?” Dan lifts an eyebrow at his friend. “It’s not that easy. I get this queasy feeling in my stomach when I think how mad he is at me and I just can’t face him.” The prince gnaws at his bottom lip, looking off into the distance.

Bass gets this squinty eyed look. “So you want him to explain to you why he’s angry but you don’t want to talk to him?”

“Ugh.” Dan drops onto his back and flails his arms and legs about. “Yes? No? Maybe? I don’t know,” he wails like a child having a tantrum. Extremely royal like, he’s the best example of a prince ever.

“Do you want me to ask him to write you a letter?” Bass asks dubiously, staring down at Dan.

The prince gives him a deadpan look and sighs. “Amazing suggestion but that would be a no.”

“Then stop being a fucking coward and talk to the guy,” Bass flicks Dan on the forehead and gets up, sauntering off to where they left their water.

The prince scowls at the ceiling of the training centre. He’s not a coward. And he’ll prove it.

***

For the third time in as many days the prince can be found pacing a second floor corridor in the south wing of the castle but he doesn’t dare knock on the intricately carved door.

“Coward,” Dan mumbles to himself, frowning at his feet.

What’s the worst that could happen, really, if he tries to talk to Phil? Sure, the other mage might throw Dan out of the room and order him not to even go near him but it wouldn’t be the end of the world. Still, the prince’s heart – the stupid thing – clenches painfully at the thought of that.

Dan could, of course, just go back to his room and restlessly shift around in his bed all night long like he’s been doing since he got to this damned place. Seems easy enough. Only, that it isn’t. No matter how hard the prince tries, he can’t get Phil out of his thoughts, especially at night when he’s got only the howling winds to keep him company.

Finally, he makes up his mind. Dan determinedly marches to the door and raises his fist to knock only to notice that it’s slightly ajar. That makes him stop in his tracks.

The prince gently pushes the door, opening it more, letting the candlelight spill across the corridor floor. He steps inside, glancing around. Phil’s not in sight. However, the water mage’s fox is lying on the bed, its beady icy eyes watching Dan’s every move. As per usual, Dan chooses to ignore the animal and simply closes the door behind himself and goes to explore Phil’s room.

The shower is on; Dan can hear the water running. He supposes he has a few minutes to prepare an apology speech or whatever but the huge desk in the middle of the room covered in layers upon layers of books attracts Dan’s attention more. He goes to stand in front of it.

Leafing through the volumes, moving the tomes around, Dan notices that all of them are about the awful things that go bump in the night. Basilisks and manticores, the common monsters, are well-known to the prince but rougarous, perytons or raijus are quite novel. Next to the descriptions of these beasts are handwritten notes. Salamander is “too small, fire, not vicious enough”, unicorn is simply “not evil”, and werewolf gets a pass for being “too assimilated to humans”.

“Your master’s been doing homework,” Dan tells the fox that’s come closer while the prince studied the books. The soul animal scoffs at him.

There are also more memory pictures from the crime scenes. The ones Dan’s not seen before depict pink snows, guts spilling out, half-eaten hearts. The focus of one picture is a girl’s head, her blonde hair dyed red with blood, pale eyes open and staring straight at Dan. The prince shudders. He averts his eyes, grabs the cup of wine that’s on the end of the table and chugs it all down.

“I couldn’t manage this without alcohol either,” the prince murmurs half to himself and half to the fox.

He pushes some other papers to cover the pictures and comes across the map. The red x’s have more than doubled in number. The biggest cluster is next to a village in the east that’s closest to the castle grounds, probably the slaughter that happened during the blizzard. A couple of them are more to the south but there’s nothing up north or in the west. So whatever the monsters, clearly they’re nesting east of the castle. At least that narrows down the search for Phil and his men.

“Dan?” Phil sounds more surprised than aggravated, confirmed by the look on his face when Dan lifts his head from the map.

The prince opens his mouth but not a sound comes out when he takes in the state of Phil, the nearly _naked_ state of him. Dan runs his eyes down Phil’s tattooed chest, following a water drop make its way to the mage’s hip where a towel covers up all the good stuff. He wants to _touch_. Badly.

“You came here to gape and ogle at me?” Phil asks, not amused in the slightest, Dan notices. He pushes his damp fringe back and Dan’s damn glad he was wrong when he thought Phil couldn’t get sexier.

“Not only?” The prince questions, having a hard time keeping his eyes on Phil’s face. “We haven’t properly talked since…” He trails off, waving his hand about in some obscure gesture.

“Since you used me because you had a hard time falling asleep?” Phil lifts an eyebrow, his tone scathing.

Dan nearly huffs out a laugh because ‘ _hard_ time’ but keeps his cool as he’s a mature adult. Kind of.

“By the Five,” the prince throws his hands in the air. “I didn’t _use_ you.”

“Sure seemed like it,” the water mage shrugs a shoulder, his fox snarls at Dan and the prince sends it a glare.

He rolls his eyes at Phil. “That’s not a childish response at all.”

Phil shakes his head, mumbles a near inaudible ‘whatever’ and passes by Dan to collect his clothes that are on the bed.

“Hey, I’m trying to have a conversation here.” Swivelling around, the prince grabs the mage by the arm but with a hissed ‘ow’ retracts his hand immediately. One of Phil’s tattoos is thrumming dark blue and Dan’s digits are pulsing with pain.

“And I don’t want to have a conversation with you so get out of my room,” Phil’s jaw is set hard and his blue eyes stare Dan down, daring him to refuse.

Well, Dan likes a challenge.

“I just want to explain,” the prince says, careful not to go grabby hands again.

“You’re such a royal pain in my ass,” Phil huffs, lifting his eyes to the ceiling as if praying to the gods to make Dan disappear.

 _Not yet_ , the prince thinks but keeps his mouth shut.

“Why can’t you just leave this alone? I have work to do, I don’t have time for whatever drama this is.” But Phil doesn’t move to shove Dan out the door so Dan thinks it’s a win.

“I didn’t use you, Phil,” Dan says, ignoring the scoffing of the fox behind him. Damn that animal and its annoying human like behaviour. “I really couldn’t sleep that night. To be fair, I can’t sleep in this castle at all, I keep having nightmares and my magic is unstable – right, not the point,” he interrupts himself at Phil’s impatient glare. “Basically, you offered to mix me some herbs so I came here to take you up on that offer. That’s it. No ulterior motive. You have my word as a prince.”

The familiar snorts, implying that Dan’s word is not worth shit. Which, true but still rude. Stupid soul animals.

“What happened, it happened on impulse, as much for me as for you. I didn’t intend to seduce you or whatever you made yourself believe,” Dan explains further.

Phil regards him for a long minute. Dan unsuccessfully tries to stare back at him but his gaze unwittingly follows the tattoos on Phil’s arm, watching how his muscles flex when he grabs the towel that’s sliding off his hips. Blood rushes down south and Dan can’t help but lick his lips.

The water mage sighs. “You’re thinking of fucking me right now, aren’t you?”

“What? No!” It comes out squeaky, accompanied with flailing arms; Dan’s usually better at lying on the spot.

Phil only silently judges him and Dan admits defeat. “Okay, what if I am? You can’t blame me, you’re half naked.” Dan waves his hand over Phil’s general person. “If anything, it’s your fault.”

“You really have a one track mind,” Phil mutters. He secures his towel and grabs the skinny jeans, shimmying into them.

Commando? Now Dan’s got way more fantasies filling his head. But wait.

“What do you mean?” The prince furrows his brows and crosses his arms.

Phil throws the now useless towel to the ground and reaches for his button-up. “The castle gossip.” He shrugs a shoulder. “The servants have a bet going on how many people you’ll sleep with while staying here. The smallest number is five, by the way.”

Dan probably had this coming a long time ago as he is infamous for sleeping around but still.

“They have a bet?” He repeats, clenching his jaw and thinking of ways how to punish those insolent puny peasants.

“Yep,” Phil pops the p, a small smile tugging at his lips. “And you wouldn’t believe what stories they tell about you.” Now he full on smirks. The bastard. Literally. “I’d absolutely tell you but I have a killer to catch.” The mage announces and walks over to the table.

Dan stares at his back for a good two minutes, tapping his foot impatiently, but he’s completely ignored. Even the stupid fox has its back turned to Dan. That just won’t do. The prince is not one to be ignored, he’s supposed to be the one doing the ignoring.

“So what? You’re just gonna believe rumours and stories and we’re done?” He asks, incredulous.

“I have zero reason not to believe them,” Phil answers, nonchalant. He shuffles some papers as if he’s actually reading them and doesn’t so much as glance at Dan. It grates on Dan’s nerves.

“I told you it was spontaneous!” Dan loses his cool and the flames in the room reach the ceiling, illuminating the whole room in bright orange. Phil turns to Dan and raises an eyebrow, judgingly. The prince breathes out slowly, flames simmer down.

The familiar turns its icy eyes on Dan, scoffing once again.

“Oh, shut up,” the prince near growls at the animal and then turns to its owner. “What else do you want me to say, Phil? What will make you believe me?”

Phil sighs and rubs at his eyes with the heels of his hands. “Okay, I believe you,” he says. “Are we done now?”

Dan wants to shout again but instead bites the inside of his cheek and mutters out a ‘fine’.

“Great,” Phil counters, crossing his arms too and putting on the fakest smile Dan ever witnessed, and Dan grew up in a royal court around nobles.

“Amazing,” the prince says childishly, moving to the door.

“Perfect,” the mage responds in a clipped tone. Dan narrows his eyes at him. “Have a good night, Your Grace.”

Well, two can play at this game. “You too, Lord Lester,” Dan smiles, more convincingly than Phil as he’s had years upon years of experience to perfect it. In answer, Phil’s fake smile wavers slightly and Dan cheers on the inside. “I’ll see you around.”

He doesn’t let Phil to even open his mouth before Dan slips through the door and slams it shut.

“The fucker,” Dan mumbles to himself, walking away and hugging himself as a cold draft wafts over his bare arms. With a touch the fire mage wakes up a sigil and warms himself up.

What is he going to do with Phil now? The prince has never ended a relationship with someone on such bad terms. Not that there was much of a relationship between them anyway. Also, Dan still has two weeks left in this castle, there’s no way he’s avoiding Phil and his angry glares. And the way he sets his jaw, making his jawline even sharper and more biteable. And the way he tenses up and his muscles flex. And Dan bets Phil could easily pin him to a wall, bite at Dan’s lips, bruise Dan’s hips with that tight grip –

And now he’s imaging them having angry sex. Of course. Ugh. Dan rubs at his temples. He’s never had it this bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you're enjoying the story!!


	7. 10 days until Winter Solstice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They do the do in this chapter, avert your eyes kiddos!! ((it’s at the end of the chapter, you’ll see it coming (haha coming)))

They’re calling him. Not by name or title, not even with a sound. It’s more like a pull he feels and he can’t not answer them.

So he gets out of bed and walks over to the balcony. The night sky is cloudy, the moon and stars hidden behind a steel wall. He opens the balcony doors and steps outside. It’s cold. He’s never felt cold and he’s certainly never felt this bone chilling coldness that threatens to make his blood drip bright red icicles.

They’re still far away and can’t enter so he has to go to them. He doesn’t want to, his heart rabbits even thinking about it, but he _has_ to. There’s no choice.

He steps closer to the railing, bells ringing in his ears. Hands on the rail, he hops on. The wind is harsh up here, whipping and lashing at every bit of exposed skin.

He looks down. A black abyss. He looks up. More of the same.

Time stands still and he can hear them hissing, can feel them calling.

He steps off.

He’s falling.

 _One down, one to go_.

***

Dan literally jolts awake. His heart wants to break through his ribs and make a run for it so he puts a hand over it. Not today. The prince tries to regulate his breathing as he was taught years ago. After a few minutes he’s calmed down enough to try and ignite the candles in the chamber without setting it on fire.

Sitting up, the mage wakes his sigils and murmurs a quick incantation so the flames awaken too. It’s better in the lit room, he feels calmer and safer when there’s a fire source nearby. Especially, after those disturbing nightmares that he can’t even remember when he wakes up. Dan doesn’t know if he should be grateful for that or worried because of it.

The clock shows that it’s just after 3 a.m. and Dan contemplates getting out of bed and seeking some comfort in someone else’s. Of course, the first person that comes to mind, accompanied by the damned flutter of Dan’s heart, is Phil. No dice there. The prince sighs and runs a hand through his hair. Biting his lip, he considers other choices but none of them are appealing so he gives up.

The anxiety in his gut still hasn’t relented and it urges Dan to expel some of that nervous energy. Dan knows he’s not going to be able to go back to sleep anyway and sees no point in fighting it so he slips from under the sheets and just starts pacing. It’s not an ideal way to spend the time for sure but he can’t help it.

Nearing the balcony, the prince feels a chill run down his spine and his anxiety spikes up. He stops in front of the glass door and frowns at his reflection, having no idea why his heart just started hammering out of control again. Then Dan hears hissing and it makes him stumble back a step, anxiety replaced with nerve-wracking panic as he chokes on air.

Nothing happens.

Candlelight flickers slightly as his concentration on magic wavers but there are no other sounds and Dan thinks that this fucked up castle is making him lose his marbles. A solid theory to be honest.

He closes his eyes and breathes. When his heart rate has slowed down and the fight or flight reaction has waned, Dan extends his shaking hand and places it on the doorknob of the balcony door.

“So stupid,” the prince chides himself when a wave of panic washes over him again.

Throwing caution and the input of his instincts to the wind, Dan flings the door open. He’s met with the quietness only night time provides. Snowflakes slowly swirl in the darkness; they get pushed inside by a slight breeze and melt meeting the warmness of the room.

Dan stares at the dancing flakes for a few seconds and then huffs. “This castle is making me fucking paranoid,” he mumbles.

Closing the door, the prince shakes his head at his own stupidity. He returns to his bed, grabbing a book on his way, and resigns himself to another sleepless night.

***

Needless to say, Dan’s cranky when the whole castle finally stirs to life and he is obliged to join the world of the living. He’s also not too thrilled to have breakfast with the Bourbons but has no way of getting out of that one so he sucks it up like the good little prince he is and tries to survive it. It surely doesn’t help that he has a splitting headache or that his tattoos have been going haywire since he woke up from the nightmare and he has no idea how to stop that. Overall, the morning is not going so well.

Dan’s keeping his head low, rubbing at his forehead and temples, hoping it will help, and doesn’t much engage in the conversation. All the signs point to him wanting to be left alone. Of course, that doesn’t happen because when in the history of ever has he gotten what he wanted.

Which, technically, all the damn time but that’s not the point right now.

“I hear you’ve been having chats with our half-brother Philip,” Cornelia, who’s sitting at Dan’s left, says offhandedly, sipping from her cup of tea.

Now, Dan hasn’t spent much time conversing with Princess Cornelia but for some reason the too innocent look on her face does not inspire Dan to trust her.

Also. Of fucking course they’d have servants spying on Dan! How did he not think of that fact earlier he has no idea and is totally going to berate himself for that later. Such an idiotic move on his part.

“He’s a mage,” Dan answers without actually answering and keeps his features neutral even though from across the table he’s getting I-told-you-not-to-even- _think_ -about-him-and-look-what-you’ve-done-now glares from Elora. At least that’s how Dan interprets it.

“He’s also a curious one, don’t you agree?” Cornelia asks too casually for Dan’s liking.

The prince shrugs. “Maybe,” he replies. “Haven’t been talking to him that much to notice it,” Dan lies easily, acting nonchalant.

“Haven’t you?” The princess raises her eyebrows. “Didn’t he give you a four hour long tour of the castle? And don’t you go to his chambers almost every night?”

Fuck. Well, she’s well-informed, Dan can admit that. And he so didn’t see the biggest threat being Madeleine’s little sister. What the hell is wrong with him?

The prince glances around but no one’s paying them any mind. His father and the Bourbon king are laughing at the other end of the table, trying to include Melissa into that too. Elora is distracting Alessandra by chatting about gods know what. And Mathias is totally flirting with Dan’s bride-to-be. Typical. Though, Dan really doesn’t care much about the latter.

“The tour was informative on your castle’s history,” Dan says. His headache is getting even worse with this third degree questioning and he notices his tattoos flickering in the corner of his eye. He discreetly places a hand on them, trying to calm his magic.

“As for the nightly visits,” he lowers his voice, admitting to those is more dangerous than saying that Phil gave him a too long tour so he has to play this carefully. “I don’t know where you get your intel from but there haven’t been any. If someone saw me leaving my room at night it’s simply because I can’t sleep that well and having a stroll down some corridors helps.”

“Hmm,” Cornelia hums not lowering her grey eyes from Dan’s. Then the corners of her ruby red lips curl upwards. It’s far from a comforting smile. “Well, you know how gossip spreads. Some people just need to believe something untoward is happening and try to convince others of such truths because their own lives are nothing if not boring.”

“Yes, I’m familiar with that,” the prince sends her an answering fake smile.

“Anyhow, it’s good to know that what I heard is false. Now I’ll be able to confidently deny those foul rumours if they ever reach Madeleine’s ears. I wouldn’t want my darling sister to suffer unnecessary heartbreak.” She tilts her head the slightest bit to the side and her gaze glides down Dan’s features, scrutinising.

“I wouldn’t want that either,” Dan says with as much feeling as he can muster considering his acting abilities hindering headache from hell.

“Brilliant,” Cornelia’s predatory red-lipped smirk makes a return and twists Dan’s gut uncomfortably. “I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

Dan can only nod and smile, the subtext of Cornelia’s words not lost on him. But she needn’t worry, things are so done between Dan and Phil that you could serve them right up to the table.

Thankfully, Cornelia leaves him be for the rest of the breakfast, of which Dan has none because, apparently, along with messing with his sleep now this castle will make him starve to death as he can’t even look at the food without wanting to throw up. Amazing to be honest. Ugh. He’s so not getting back here ever in his life.

When the ordeal is done, Dan hurries the fuck out of there so he wouldn’t be roped into sitting through another one of Madeleine’s violin lessons or something. The girl is good at that but Dan firmly believes his head will explode if he doesn’t sit in silence for the next however long.

“Dan, wait,” Elora grabs him by the arm out of nowhere and Dan jumps slightly, his heart shifting into a higher gear. Not that he’s admitting to that if anyone asks.

“What, Lor?” He groans, rubbing at his forehead.

“Alessandra told me something important,” Elora answers in hushed tones and drags her brother over to the window, out of earshot of someone walking down the corridor.

“Can’t this wait?” Dan sighs. “I was gonna puke my guts out because of this headache and sleep for an eternity.”

“First of all, ew,” Elora scrunches her nose and lets go of Dan. “Second of all, no.”

“Fine, whatever,” the prince gives up. “What did she tell you?”

His little sister crosses her arms and puts on her serious business face. “Apparently, Melissa sent out invitations for other suitors and they’re coming tomorrow. Just a couple of them, neither of them even royal but they’re rich and that’s what the Bourbons need right now. So get your game on and do everything you can to seal the deal with Madeleine.”

“I don’t see how any of that is a problem,” Dan rolls his eyes, which proves to be a bad idea as a pang pierces his head. “Madeleine likes me. There are only ten days left till the Solstice. She doesn’t know squat about those guys. Do the math.”

“No, _you_ do the math,” Elora jabs at Dan’s chest with a finger and he winces, rubbing the afflicted area. “You don’t get married to Madeleine and our whole plan of uniting the kingdoms under the rule of one family and showing those Serelia morons not to mess with us goes to shit. They will declare war on us if we don’t get those troops the Bourbons offered.”

“It already went to shit when Serelia united with Polis,” Dan says just to distract his sister and to make an escape.

Elora snorts derisively. “Polis has like two gold pieces in their treasury, it won’t be enough to support Serelia’s agenda. But that’s not the point,” she glares at her brother, seeing right through his scheming. “Do your job, Dan, and make sure Madeleine will say yes to you on Winter Solstice. Got it?”

“Yes, Your Majesty, I will do everything I can,” Dan says mockingly. “Can I go suffer in silence now?”

The princess only rolls her eyes and walks away. Dan doesn’t even think on her words while getting back to his room. He curls himself into the foetal position in the middle of his bed and falls into more restless sleep, absolutely ignoring that everything seems to be going to shit. As they say, ignoring it is bliss. Or something along those lines.

***

Dan lurches into a sitting position as soon as the resounding bang disturbs the silence in his room. His sigils are pulsing in reds and oranges and the flames illuminate the chamber. Chest heaving, the prince glances to his side to see the open balcony door. Wind sweeps inside, making Dan shudder.

Sighing, Dan gets out of bed and walks over to close the door. He doesn’t have a faintest how he even left it unlocked; he’s sure he closed it and locked it in the morning. Whatever. Apparently, now the nightmarish castle is messing with his memory too. By the Five, he’ll go insane here.

The prince stares into the darkness for a moment, hating on it. Every day more and more light is lost and Dan _loathes_ it. By the time Winter Solstice rolls around, it will be dark nearly the whole 24 hours. Dan’s never been up north during the Solstice, down south it’s way different, darkness doesn’t last as long.

‘When darkness descends, rise the condemned,’ is a saying popular in Dan’s kingdom. Down south they fear the night more than up here. All the scary tales are spun around ghouls, ghosts, vampires and shadow monsters that grab you once it’s dark. Dan grew up on those too. He blames his nanny for this ridiculous fear of darkness that he’s been harbouring up until now.

Dan closes the door and locks it, putting a physical barrier between the darkness and himself, not that that helps in those horror stories. But fuck it. He needs at least the illusion of safety. He turns around and goes to grab the book he left at the end of his bed when there’s a crash and the sound of shattering glass behind him. Heart once again battering against his ribs, his breathing too shallow, Dan spins around.

The balcony doors are wide open again. Wind is whipping inside the chamber, putting out all the candles. On the floor, glass shards glint in the dying light of the flames. The room is enveloped in darkness within seconds, cold seeps inside, painting frost against every surface.

The fire mage tries to awaken his sigils but they’re not responding. Dan’s left without magic. He can’t think, he can’t breathe, he can’t even move as the frost closes in on him, threatening to make an ice sculpture out of him.

Dan clasps his eyes shut, not believing this is fucking happening. He digs his nails into his skin, praying to the Five that his sigils wake up. The only thing he manages to do is break skin and gasp from the pain, opening his eyes.

The balcony doors are closed. No shattered glass. Candlelight flickers slightly.

He’s standing by the end of his bed, nails dug into one of his tattoos, blood dripping down his forearm.

“And I’ve officially lost my mind,” Dan mumbles to himself, staring at the droplets slowly making their way down his skin towards the ground.

The prince seals the scratches with an incantation and washes up. But he can’t stay in the chamber tonight, not without the panic permeating every cell in his body, so he gets the fuck out. It’s already late and the castle corridors are empty. Dan wanders around, not giving much thought to his destination, he just know he has to keep moving. Naturally, he ends up in front of Phil’s door.

“Damn it,” the mage whispers and rubs at his eyes while turning to leave. He connects with something solid and they make a lot of noise going down. Dan removes his hands from in front of his eyes.

Phil glares icily at him, his fox doing a way better job than him at that, books are scattered on the floor.

“What are you doing here?” The water mage asks angrily. The familiar sneers, showing off its pearly whites.

“Didn’t come to seduce you, don’t worry,” Dan replies as scathingly, putting a frown on his face.

“So you’re just here to generally ruin my night. Obviously,” Phil rolls his eyes and bends to pick up the books. “Asshole,” he mumbles lowly but not low enough for Dan not to hear.

“Excuse me?” The prince bristles. “I’m a royal, you should show me more respect, bastard.” Dan’s so not above using the hierarchy card right now.

Phil lifts his head to look at Dan with a raised eyebrow. He stands up. “You’re a fucking spoiled brat is what you are,” he near snarls at the prince, his fox is right up with that too.

“And you’re a stuck-up dick with a moral superiority complex,” Dan throws right back, shoving at Phil’s shoulder and making him lose the books he had collected off the floor.

Phil glances at the volumes that just tumbled down again and then back at Dan. “You know what? You’re not even worth it.” He shakes his head.

Dan clenches his teeth as well as his fists. “Come on, don’t hold back now, bastard,” he scorns. “Tell me what you think of me.”

Phil’s jaw tenses at the moniker. “Fine,” he says, tone clipped. “I think you’re an egotistical arrogant jerk who uses up people and then throws them away like they’re garbage.” He takes a threatening step closer to Dan.

“I think you don’t care about anyone else but you and you think the whole universe revolves around you.” Another step that makes Dan back up. “I think you got what you wanted from me that night and you left as soon as you could because you needed just the sex and not me. You could’ve used anyone that night and thought I’d do. And I think you think I should feel grateful for that and grovel for more. Well, tough shit.” Phil pushes Dan, making him stumble and hit the wall behind him.

“Fuck you, Your Royal Highness,” Phil sneers right into Dan’s face, keeping him pinned. “I’m not in the mood for being your whore.”

Dan keeps his face into a scowl but he knows Phil’s right. Partially, at least. He never thought that way about Phil but there have been men and women like he just described. Dan’s not proud of that. He only recently started changing his ways but he doubts telling Phil all that will help at all.

They stare each other in the eye for a couple of seconds. Both with anger etched on their faces, both itching to do something but gods know what. And then Phil kisses Dan. Though, it could more accurately be described as ‘assaults his mouth angrily’ because there’s no gentleness associated with the notion of a kiss. Phil bites at Dan’s lips, hard, nearly drawing blood, he claims Dan’s mouth and it’s all Dan can do to keep up.

“Asshole,” the water mage mumbles into the prince’s mouth.

“Dick,” the brunet answers before they’re devouring each other again.

Phil presses closer to Dan, grinding and eliciting a breathy moan from the brunet. He tips Dan’s head back, fingers splayed over Dan’s jaw, exposing his neck and biting there, leaving marks. The prince retaliates by yanking Phil’s shirt wide open, buttons dropping to the ground. Phil growls and bites hard at Dan’s collarbone, making the brunet hiss, so Dan scratches down Phil’s chest, drawing a hiss from him in return.

Then Phil’s back on Dan’s mouth, tugging at the front of his shirt and stepping back, dragging Dan with himself. Dan’s so far gone that he just follows without question. They’re inside the room and Phil slams the door shut, pushing Dan against the wood.

“I so hate you right now,” Phil huffs out.

“Same here,” Dan responds but he pulls Phil to himself by the back of his neck and nips at the other mage’s lips, kissing him hungrily.

Their tattoos are full on glowing now. The air is charged with magical energy and sparks, glittering and popping, appear around the two mages. Waves of pleasure roll through the both of them, causing them to moan in unison.

They tear at each other’s clothes, leaving a trail to the bed. Phil licks and bites at every inch of Dan’s skin, and the prince returns it in scratches and hair pulling. Shoving Dan down onto the mattress, Phil straddles him and leans down for another bruising kiss. Dan slips his fingers into Phil’s hair once again and pulls, making the water mage tip his head back. The prince licks a stripe up the flesh and leaves a mark of his own.

Dan’s nipping at Phil’s shoulder, the tattoos sting at his lips but Phil’s breathy moan is worth it. They’re thrusting at each other, one of Phil’s hands wrapped around the both of them. Dan can feel his orgasm building and he gasps, releasing Phil’s skin from his teeth.

Making use of this, Phil pulls away. “Turn over,” he orders, out of breath and husky. Dan hurries to comply. Phil tugs at his hair, lifting his head, mouthing at the marks on Dan’s neck he left before. Then his teeth are on Dan’s shoulder blades, between them, and still moving lower. Phil nips at Dan’s ass and slaps it, smirking smugly when Dan yelps and glares at Phil over his shoulder.

Phil moves off the bed, retrieving lube from a drawer of his cabinet. He throws the bottle next to Dan before climbing on top of him again. Returning to his previous exploration of Dan’s body with his teeth and tongue, Phil extracts more and more moans and whimpers from the prince alongside making him writhe and squirm. It makes a satisfied smile spread over his lips.

Their tattoos are thrumming now. There’s audible buzzing and the sparks have intensified. Dan’s skin is glowing with the hues of blue and white under Phil’s hands. Every touch has been intensified tenfold.

Finally, after a bit of begging from Dan, Phil reaches for the bottle. He slicks his fingers and pushes them inside Dan. The previous urgency has now subsided and Phil prepares Dan with care. The brunet doesn’t appreciate that at all.

“Just fucking hurry up,” the prince breathes into the sheets. Phil doesn’t comply, teasing him more. “Do you want to fuck me tonight or just shove fingers up my ass?” Dan snarls over his shoulder, glaring daggers at Phil.

The mage leans up, capturing the prince’s lips in a kiss in an attempt to shut him the fuck up. It works. Soon Phil’s satisfied with his preparation and pulls away from the kiss. Dan’s panting now and his limbs are shaking when he lifts up. Even the slightest whisper of Phil’s touch makes him whimper in pleasure. Damn, he’s missed this intensity.

But it’s nothing compared to when Phil _finally_ slips inside him and they start rocking. The buzz of ecstasy builds up more and more. Phil’s fingers are burning against Dan’s hips and Dan’s rasping ‘faster’ and ‘harder’. Phil’s only glad to comply.

Tugging Dan around his waist, Phil makes him lift up. They’re touching chest to back, skin glinting with sweat in the light of their multi-coloured tattoos. Phil slips a hand down Dan’s sternum, reaching his groin and wrapping his fingers around Dan’s cock. The prince shudders in pleasure, too overwhelmed to even make a noise.

Chanting Phil’s name in a daze of pleasure, Dan reaches his high. His brain is full of cotton and his vision is blurred but Dan’s blissed out and relaxed. Phil’s bliss follows soon after and they both collapse on the bed, breathing heavy and hearts hammering nearly at the same rhythm. Their tattoos slowly dim down and the energy in the air dissipates.

They’re lying side by side, touching from shoulder to hip and not saying a word. Dan can’t stand staring at the dark ceiling, even if he has Phil who brings calmness with himself. So the fire mage wakes one of his sigils and ignites the candles. He lifts himself up, leaning on his elbows and glances down at Phil. The other mage is already asleep. Dan snorts.

But then he looks closer at Phil and sees how much paler he’s gotten, and Dan didn’t think that was possible. The bags under his eyes have also intensified and he looks like he could really use some rest. For a moment Dan wonders that maybe the same thing that doesn’t let Dan sleep is affecting Phil too.

Discarding those thoughts to think over when he’s not delirious after mind-blowing sex, Dan gets up and goes to the bathroom. He cleans himself up and brings a wet towel to clean up Phil. After that’s done, Dan puts on his underwear and jeans and goes to the door. Once he opens it, an extremely pissed off familiar glares at him and scampers inside the room. The animal sniffs and sneezes and then scrunches up its nose before going to the furthest corner from the bed and lying down there.

“Prick,” Dan mutters after it and receives a roll of the eyes. The prince thinks he’ll never get along with that prissy familiar.

After sticking his tongue out at the soul animal (yes, it’s completely mature), Dan gets out into the corridor and collects Phil’s scattered books. He brings them inside, putting them on the table. And then he just stands there, scratching at the nape of his neck and contemplating his options.

Dan could totally return to his scary ass room and attempt to sleep. Which, not appealing in the least. Or he could stay here, all cozied up with Phil and hope he won’t throw Dan out of the room in the morning.

Making up his mind, Dan closes the door quietly and walks over to the bed. He’s not sure if he should move Phil so they wouldn’t have to lie across the bed but he chickens out and simply lies down next to him, pulling the duvet over the both of them.

The flames on the candles grow smaller and smaller the further into sleep Dan slips and soon the last candle fizzes out.


	8. 9 days until Winter Solstice

Dan’s pulled back into consciousness slowly, carefully. He has difficulty opening his eyes and leaving the comforting sleepiness behind. Strange. He hasn’t felt this way in what seems to have been years. In this drowsy state of sleep, the prince rolls around in bed, looking for the calming presence he had beside him the whole night. Phil’s not there.

The prince blinks awake and lifts himself up, yawning. The water mage is drinking tea, leaning against the giant desk and watching Dan. A bit creepy, to be honest.

“You stayed,” Phil says. His tone is not disapproving, more considering, and he’s looking Dan over.

The prince stares for a second. “And you were watching me sleep,” he replies, stating the obvious too.

Phil huffs and rolls his eyes. “Why?” He asks, disregarding Dan's statement.

Dan shrugs a shoulder. He genuinely doesn’t have an answer beyond that Phil just makes him feel calm in this horror-novel-esque castle and Dan doesn’t feel like he’s losing his mind when he’s with Phil. But the brunet doubts Phil would be satisfied with this as an explanation so he keeps his mouth shut.

“Seriously?” Phil lifts an eyebrow. “You have nothing to say?”

“I can say that last night was the best angry sex I’ve ever had,” Dan tries.

What he wants to say is that he doesn’t understand why Phil is making him feel all fluttery and frustrated at the same time, or why Dan thinks about him non-stop, or maybe why in the nine rings of the Underworld did Dan actually sleep for the first time tonight.

Phil shakes his head, a small sad smile appearing on his lips. “Of course,” he mumbles to himself. “Door’s right there,” he adds, turning away from Dan and getting back to his papers.

“Ugh,” Dan grunts, falling back on the bed. “I just can’t do this right, can I?” He wonders aloud. “I’ve never been good at relationships. You gotta help me out here, man.”

He hears Phil shuffling and then coming closer.

“Is that what you want with me? A relationship?”

Dan sits back up so he could look at Phil. The water mage has a blank look on his face and that doesn’t help Dan shit to interpret what Phil wants to hear from him.

“Yes?” Dan says, watching the expression on Phil’s face. Then, when Phil’s still staring blankly, “No?”

“I think you have to first figure out what you want and then come back to me with an answer,” Phil says wearily like he’s over and done with Dan’s bullshit.

“And what do you want?” Dan asks just because.

The tilt on Phil’s lips is rather mocking. “Do you even care?”

It suddenly comes back to Dan, all the things Phil said last night, albeit in anger, but he clearly believes that Dan's as selfish as they come. “You think I don’t care about you at all?”

Phil rolls his eyes heavenwards. “I know you don’t, Dan. And that’s fine, it works for you. But please, stop coming to my room because I’m some toy you can’t let go of. What happened last night was a fluke and won’t happen again.”

“I’m sure I could persuade you,” the prince smirks but his grin vanishes when Phil only glares at him, completely not amused. Dan bites at his bottom lip and doesn’t miss the way Phil’s eyes zero in on the action. “I do care about you, Phil.” Dan forces himself to say the truth for once in his life.

“You care about having sex with a mage. It’s not the same as caring about me as a person, Dan,” Phil sighs and runs a hand through his hair. Dan would very much like to do so to Phil himself. Maybe while they’re lying in bed on a lazy morning, just sharing kisses.

The prince nearly frowns at those thoughts and at the burst of joy that comes with them. What kind of romantic nonsense?..

“Fine, think what you want,” Dan gets back on track with the conversation and stands up, looking around for his shirt. If Phil’s being difficult about this, Dan’s not obliged to beat it into his skull that the prince actually cares about him.

“Kitsu got around to your shirt,” Phil says as if reading Dan’s mind. He points to a corner of the room where a very satisfied with itself familiar looks up at Dan. The fox is lying on a completely torn shirt, bits of it all around the floor, and it stares at Dan with what he could swear to the Five is a smug expression.

“Petty revenge,” Dan directs his gaze upon Phil who’s totally not bothered by the fact that his soul animal just destroyed a prince’s shirt. “Wonderful,” he mumbles. “Rumours certainly won’t spread on why Prince Daniel is running around the castle shirtless,” he looks down at himself, “with marks all over my body. Seriously?” The prince lifts his eyes to Phil.

The other mage only shrugs, though his cheeks do colour slightly. “Spur of the moment,” he comments. “I’ll give you one of mine,” he placates and goes to his wardrobe.

Luckily, Dan’s boots aren’t damaged or chewed on. The prince scowls at the fox while he’s tying his shoes; the animal absolutely doesn’t care about the hatred Dan’s sending its way.

“Here,” Phil presents Dan with a blue button-up. Dan considers asking for a different one only because he’s got nothing blue in his closet and everyone knows he doesn’t wear that colour but he’s pretty sure Phil’s got nothing red so there’s no point. It’s better than walking around shirtless with bite marks all over his torso.

Dan mumbles his thanks, chucks on the shirt and doesn’t leave. He has no idea why but he just doesn’t want to leave Phil’s side and would gladly say anything Phil wants to hear if he would let Dan stay in this room forever instead of the horror show Dan got for a room. It’s infuriating and confusing.

“Anything else?” Phil asks, crossing his arms.

Dan admires the flex of Phil’s muscles and the intricacies of his tattoos for a second and shakes his head. He gets the strangest impulse to kiss Phil goodbye, sweet and slow, but squashes it down to nothing as it should be. Maybe this castle is also fucking with Dan’s emotions and not only his sleep schedule.

“Um,” the prince rubs at the nape of his neck. “I’ll see you later, I guess.”

“Hopefully, not,” Phil answers. The two simple words hurt more than Dan would like to admit even to himself. “Stay out of my room, Dan. And away from me.”

Dan swallows the lump in his throat and disregards the clench of his heart. “No problem,” he nods a couple times and finally makes for the door.

Cold seeps into Dan’s bones the farther away he walks from the warmth Phil’s fireplace provided and the mage wakes a sigil to warm himself up. He already misses Phil and wishes he could go back and fix it between them. But he knows Phil wouldn’t believe anything Dan said and for good reason, of course. Besides, even if Dan convinced Phil to try building something between them, it wouldn’t last since in a bit more than a week Dan’s proposing to Madeleine.

The prince sighs heavily, running a hand down his face. For the first time in his life Dan loathes being a royal because as such he can have everything but not the only thing he wants most. It totally sucks ass.

***

The shirt smells like Phil and Dan refuses to take it off even when he has to go to the reception party for Madeleine’s other suitors. Elora threatens him with bodily harm because he is ‘making it obvious, you damn idiot’, and even Mathias shakes his head at Dan which is in itself saying something but Dan couldn’t care less.

“Why are you wearing blue?” Bass asks as soon as the prince approaches the clairvoyant who’s standing in a corner of the Hall, away from the crowd.

“Why can’t I wear blue?” Dan retorts, confrontational, squaring his shoulders and crossing his arms.

Sebastian looks him over, frowning, and then shrugs. “Never in my life have I seen you wear blue.”

“Well, I’m wearing it now, I don’t see how that’s a big deal, it’s just a colour,” Dan bites back, scowling.

“Alright alright,” Bass lifts his hands up in surrender. “No need to get defensive about it.”

“I’m not defensive,” the prince retorts, admittedly, quite defensively. He turns away from his friend to look over the crowd. “Have my competitors made an appearance yet?” Dan asks, just to distract Bass from the damned colour of the damned shirt.

The clairvoyant glances at him with the I-totally-know-what-you’re-trying-to-do look but answers either way. “Not yet. You should probably go talk to Madeleine about this whole situation. You know, ensure she chooses you.”

“Why is everyone so concerned about that?” Dan’s scowl deepens and he clenches his jaw. “Of course, she’ll choose me; I’ve been working on it for like two weeks. It’s going to be _fine_.” He growls out the last word and Bass raises an eyebrow.

“What got into you today? You need to chill, man,” the clairvoyant says. As if it’s that easy. As if Dan can just forget about Phil, as if his heart will stop clenching painfully every time Dan thinks about this morning.

“Maybe _you_ need to chill,” the prince snaps back.

“Something is really wrong if you resorted to responding like a child,” Bass, the fucker, smirks.

The reply ‘ _you’re_ responding like a child’ is on the tip of Dan’s tongue but the prince bites the inside of his cheek to keep it from spilling out. And yeah, he is acting like a brat, he can admit to it. It’s just that the whole situation with Phil is so extremely and unbelievably frustrating that he doesn’t know how to deal with it. Dan never in his life experienced such an attraction when he can’t just fuck and be done with it. He’s at a loss on what to do and it’s not like he can talk to anyone because he promised to forget about Phil. Ugh.

“I’m going to talk to Madeleine,” Dan announces.

“You do that,” Bass nods. “Just don’t get snappy with her.”

The brunet glares at his friend and then stalks off to find his future fiancée. On the way, he puts his poker face on and tries to tamp down his irrational anger. It doesn’t work that well but it’ll have to do.

Madeleine’s talking to her sisters when Dan swoops in and asks to talk to her alone. Cornelia takes one glance at him and purses her crimson lips in dissatisfaction. Clearly, he’s busted. Stupid blue shirt. Not that Dan is taking it off any time soon.

“I haven’t seen you since breakfast yesterday,” Madeleine notes once they’re hidden in a corridor away from the lords and ladies and their snooping.

“Yeah,” Dan rubs at the nape of his neck. “I was kind of busy.”

“Oh, understandable,” the princess smiles sweetly.

“Have you met your other suitors yet?” Dan asks just so Madeleine wouldn’t inquire about the activities that kept him busy.

“Yes, I have,” she bites her lip and glances over to the window, beyond which there’s nothing but darkness. “They were rather rude and arrogant. Kind of like I thought you’d be.” The corners of her lips tug upwards in an amused smile.

Dan smiles back and nods. “I’m kind of those things as well, though.”

Madeleine shrugs a shoulder. “I wouldn’t say so. You judge yourself too harshly.” Her fingers wrap around Dan’s wrist and squeeze reassuringly.

“I’d like to think I got to know you a bit during the last few days. And I’d say you can be charming and funny and really sweet when you want to be. You’ve been living with the image the media built for you for so long that you’re starting to believe you’re all those awful things when you’re really not, Dan.” She steps closer, bringing her other hand up and caressing his cheek.

“I wish you could see yourself the way I see you. You’re capable of so much emotion and kindness but you just don’t know how to express it all. I think you’re just so used to lying about everything to everyone, so used to pretending to be who you’re not that you need to learn to trust people and to trust they won’t hurt you if you tell the truth, if you show them the real you.” Madeleine’s smile is a bit sad and she’s looking at Dan with so much warmth Dan would never have even thought he’d receive from a person he’s met two weeks ago.

And the prince is completely stumped and in awe of Madeleine’s perception skills. All this time he thought they were simply playing the courting game and Madeleine’s been secretly evaluating him and truly reading his soul. It’s astonishing how much she got right. Even the things Dan himself haven’t ever thought of.

So, of course, in order to take back the control of the situation Dan does the only thing he can think of, which is to kiss Madeleine. Her lips are soft and plush against his, the heat of her body seeps into him and they fit together perfectly. But there’s nothing else. There’s no spark, no desire to take things further that Dan would have had by now had this happened before Phil. The only thought in Dan’s mind is that this feels wrong, that this is not what – who – he wants.

And it just clicks like that. All the flutters of his heart, all the thoughts he’s been having about Phil, it all starts to make sense. Dan’s falling in love.

Holy shit.

Dan’s brought back to the present from his moment of clarity when the princess slides her hand from Dan’s cheek to his chest and pushes softly. Dan pulls away, though they still stay quite close to each other; Dan’s free hand is on Madeleine’s waist and her fingers are gripping his wrist.

“To be honest, not what I was going for,” she smiles, amused now. “I like you, Dan, I really do,” Madeleine bites her lip.

“Just not in that way,” Dan finishes for her. “Yeah, me too.”

Madeleine shakes her head and giggles. Dan laughs too; there’s a bit of hysteria in that from his previous revelation.

“I will accept your proposal if you ask me,” the princess admits after they’ve calmed down. “We could make the marriage work. I wouldn’t be against you having someone,” she fingers the shirt collar Dan’s wearing, meeting his eyes with a meaningful look in her own, “if we just managed to keep appearances in public.”

“Are you actually saying what I think you’re saying?” Dan asks with raised eyebrows because could it really be? Could this actually be the solution to his problem?

Madeleine laughs again. “I think so. I’m sure I could talk father into letting Phil travel back to your country with us.”

“And you actually would be okay with that arrangement?” Dan thinks he’s never felt this astounded about another person. Have the Five sent Madeleine his way because if so he’s got some major thanking to do.

“I truly would. I just want to escape my mother and focus on my music.” She gets a faraway look in her eyes. “Imagine me touring, playing for thousands of people who actually like my music not just because I’m royalty. I think you’re my best bet on making that come true.”

Dan doesn’t even have to think twice about Madeleine’s suggestion. “Okay,” he agrees easily.

The princess glances at him, a new brilliant smile spreading on her lips. “Really?”

“Yeah. We can make that work,” Dan answers, grinning too.

Madeleine squeals in joy and hugs Dan fiercely. Drowning in her curls, the prince actually believes there’s finally hope that he won’t live miserably ever after.

***

Dan’s lying on Phil’s bed, his head hanging off the edge and the world is upside down. The prince is humming a tune, rubbing a hand over his tattoos that have flared up and keep flickering; he couldn’t even concentrate them enough to light the candles in the room and had to do so with a match. Which, extremely damaging to his ego as a fire mage.

While waiting for Phil to return, Dan contemplates over the events of the evening. The highlight, of course, is Madeleine’s proposition, though Dan quite enjoyed seeing the other two suitors, Adam and Gabriel, making fools of themselves and trying to entice Madeleine. It was a spectacle of truly failed flirtations and Dan’s happy he got to witness the wreck that it was. He smiles to himself remembering it.

The prince also considers all the possible answers Phil might have when Dan tells him about the arrangement he agreed on with Madeleine. He’s hoping Phil will agree even if with a ton of convincing but, realistically, Dan’s quite certain Phil’s morals will win over and he’ll say no.

And here’s where the dilemma arises for Dan. He could tell Phil the whole truth like Madeleine suggested, which involves the risk of Phil kicking Dan out the door and never talking to him again. Or he could lie like he usually does and tell Phil that Dan’s not marrying Madeleine and that they can have an actual relationship in the hopes that Phil will fall so madly in love with Dan that he’ll be a-okay when Dan finally reveals the truth to him. Option number two seems to be winning in Dan’s head.

However, the prince is certain of one thing – he’ll do whatever it takes to have Phil. Dan will bend the truth if necessary, he will tell Phil whatever he wants to hear as long as in the end they’ll end up together. And it might be wrong but Dan’s falling in love for the first time and he’s not about to let it go. He wants this more than anything else he ever wanted and he’ll have it one way or the other. After all, Dan’s a royal, he always has his way and he’s determined to not make this an exception.

He’s chewing on his lip and weighing the pros and cons of telling the truth versus lying when Phil finally opens the door. Dan checks the clock; five minutes shy of midnight.

Phil stops in his tracks as soon as he spots Dan. The grip he’s got on the door handle tightens and he clenches his jaw. Phil slams the door shut and Dan winces.

“What are you doing here?” The water mage manages through clenched teeth. The familiar snarls, coming closer to Dan.

“You weren’t at the reception,” Dan says dumbly, watching the fox that’s seemingly on a mission to bite Dan’s nose off so the prince sits up as fast as he can and spins around to face the other mage.

“Because I didn’t want to see you,” Phil widens his stance and crosses his arms. Dan’s man enough to admit he finds it hot as fuck, especially after last night’s activities. “And I still don’t so get the fuck out of my room.”

The prince doesn’t move. He nervously twiddles with his fingers before blurting out, “I do want a relationship with you.”

Phil’s taken aback for a second. His scowl is replaced with a confused expression at the sudden topic change. “What?” He asks.

“This morning you told me to get back to you when I’ve figured out what I want from you,” Dan reminds him. “And I want an actual relationship with you.”

“You, Dan Howell, who’s known for sleeping around and not sticking with one person for longer than a week, you want a relationship?” Apparently, Dan confused Phil so much that he forgot he was angry with him; Phil’s pose has relaxed and his familiar is no longer snarling at the prince.

Dan rolls his eyes at the description of himself. “Yes, Phil, I want a relationship _with you_ ,” he emphasises, having learned from this morning’s mistakes. “I do care about you as a person and I want to be with you. Not because you’re a random mage I want to fuck but because I actually like you.” He gets off the bed, approaching the still suspicious water mage.

“I admit that at first it was simply sexual attraction,” Dan says, nearly whispering. He swallows hard, psyching himself up to tell the truth and not fear the aftermath of baring his soul. “But after I got to know you I started to genuinely just want to spend time with you. And whenever I see you I get this fluttery feeling in my chest, and I keep thinking about you, and I just want to try and have something with you.”

Phil stays silent for a few seconds. He ruffles his hair, glancing away from Dan. “Even if I believe what you’re telling is the truth, it can’t happen. You’re marrying Madeleine. We don’t have a future together, Dan.”

“We could,” the prince argues weakly, averting his eyes.

“I won’t be your secret lover if that’s what you’re implying.” Phil’s tone suggests how utterly not impressed he is with that particular idea.

Dan looks up at him. A split second decision and the words spill out of his mouth. “Then I won’t marry her. I don’t have to, she’s got plenty of suitors anyway and your country will be fine. I could easily hand off my crown to my brother and he could marry Madeleine if my father so wishes. All I want is you, Phil.” Lies. All lies, except for the last sentence. Dan doesn’t even know why he’s saying all those things when the rational part of him is shouting ‘just tell the truth, you lying asshole!’

Phil’s eyes widen and he opens his mouth to say something but manages to only gape a couple times. “You would actually abdicate because of me? Are you even hearing yourself? That’s insane, Dan!”

“It’s really not,” Dan assures him, stepping closer. “I’ve thought about it while I was waiting for you.” Why, oh why, is he digging this hole for himself? He should just shut up and do damage control. But Dan’s never been one to make the right decision.

“All my life I’ve been doing what I was told to do, things that would make my country better. The truth is, I don’t care about any of it. Not really, not the way a future king should. I don’t care about my throne or doing the right thing for my country. I want to be selfish, Phil, and live my life for _me_. I want to be happy and I want to be with you.” Dan sprinkles some truth in his speech to make it more believable.

“And relinquishing my throne is only the last resort. I’m not saying I’ll go to my father tomorrow and do so. All I’m saying is that I want to try and make this happen between us.” He takes the last step towards Phil and takes his hand, twining their fingers together.

Phil looks down at their linked hands. Dan’s heart is beating a mile a minute like Phil’s answer will decide if Dan lives or dies.

“I can’t have you losing your crown over me,” the water mage says softly, gnawing on his bottom lip and Dan nearly lifts his hand to run his thumb over it.

“I won’t. Plenty of kings never marry. And I’d be fine even if it happened,” Dan reassures, rubbing his thumb over the back of Phil’s hand.

“I don’t know,” Phil says dubiously but Dan can see his resolve crumbling.

“Do you want this?” Dan squeezes their linked hands and places his free one on Phil’s chest. “Because I do.” The prince leans in, ghosting his lips over Phil’s. “I think I’m falling in love with you,” Dan whispers, his heart fluttering in agreement and partly in guilt as he expects those words to sway Phil to say yes.

Phil's eyes widen slightly at the confession. He's speechless for a moment or two but then he surges forward and they’re properly kissing. It feels right with Phil’s hands on Dan’s hips and Dan’s fingers in Phil’s hair and with both of them pressing as close to the other as possible. Dan wishes this could last forever, that this could be all there is in life. Just him and Phil, fitting perfectly together.

“Okay,” Phil murmurs breathless against Dan’s lips.

The prince grins. “Yeah?” Dan steals a kiss and feels the corners of Phil’s lips lift upwards.

“Yeah,” Phil answers and they’re kissing again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick thing: this is the last fic I'm writing for the phandom and I hope to make this as good as I can!!!  
> (tho the ending I have planned probs won't be very well received haha)


	9. 6 days until Winter Solstice

The setting sun paints the snow in golden shimmers and purple speckles. Trees become a line of shadows in the distance and candlelight fills random windows of the castle, casting yellow squares on the ground beneath them. Soon darkness falls completely and the round moon reigns over the land helped by the cold and distant stars, her keepers.

Dan watches the fall of the sun and the rise of the moon from his balcony. He’s expecting to see Phil returning from another village that’s been attacked but all he witnesses is the change in rule. A shudder runs through him. He glances at the moon one last time before heading inside where at least there’s light.

The chamber Dan’s staying in still gives him the creeps and Dan tries to spend as little time as possible here. The past couple of days he slept in Phil’s room. He expected the miracle of that first night they spent together to repeat and hoped he’d have a good night’s sleep but it hasn’t really happened. The dreams aren’t as excruciatingly horrifying but Dan still can’t rest easily. He’s noticed that a similar thing seems to be happening to Phil too. If only Dan could figure out why they’re the only ones affected.

With the fall of night, the anxiety in Dan’s gut returns and so he sits in front of a candle and focuses on his breathing and controlling the flame. The sigils on his forearm pulse a faded gold and a light red. The prince is enjoying the few tranquil moments he has before inevitably someone interrupts him.

It’s a few moments later when he hears fingers clicking. “Hey, Dan,” Mathias says. Dan opens his eyes to see his brother kneeling right in front of him, snapping his fingers.

“Really?” Dan asks, raising an eyebrow, not even that surprised. “Can’t I have like two peaceful moments?”

Mathias regards him suspiciously. “You had two whole peaceful days doing the Five knows what,” he replies.

 _Doing the Five knows_ who, Dan wants to correct Mat but doesn’t dare because no one knows about him and Phil; they’ve been extremely careful so as not to start rumours since those wouldn’t help any party involved. It’s really useful that Phil knows every secret passageway and which servant spies for which noble or royalty.

“What do you want?” The prince asks instead, gliding his palm over his skin and hushing his sigils.

“Family dinner,” Mathias replies. “Obligatory,” he adds at Dan’s scrunched up nose. “Come on, you must have at least a couple hours to spare for your family.”

“Fine, fine,” Dan mumbles and gets up.

He follows his brother to their father’s chambers. The dinner table is already set and their sister and father are waiting. Even Bass is here. Which, totally weird. Dan glances around warily but sits down nonetheless.

“Why do I feel like I’m about to have an intervention?” The prince wonders, taking his glass of wine and sipping from it. There’s no way they could have found out about him and Phil, is there?

“Because you’re a drama queen,” Elora answers, smirking.

“It’s a simple family dinner, relax,” the king says, sending his daughter a look. “We haven’t had one of those in days.”

Dan nods absently a couple times. “Then what is Bass doing here?”

“Hey,” the clairvoyant smacks Dan upside the head. “I’m a valued honorary member of this family.”

“Yeah, and you get involved in family dinners when I fuck up. Which, by the way, I didn’t,” Dan lies. “I’ve been the perfect prince.”

The four of them snort derisively and Dan mutters a half-hearted ‘hey’ but doesn’t try to defend his honour any more than that; it’s a lost cause anyway.

“What have you been up to these past few days?” His father asks, carving his steak.

Dan swirls the wine in his glass, watching it slosh dangerously close to the sides. He shrugs a shoulder. “Things and stuff.”

“Things and stuff?” Elora repeats, her expression clearly showing how unimpressed she is with Dan’s answer.

“Yeah,” Dan looks straight at his sister. “Why? Have you heard something about me?”

“That’s the thing, Dan,” Elora says. “Everyone says you just hole up in your room all day. I’m finding it hard to imagine that you’re keeping yourself entertained with books. So what is it that you do?”

“Why the sudden interest, Lor?”

Elora purses her lips. “Because, you idiot, you should be courting Madeleine. She’s been spending time with those two rich morons while you’ve suddenly decided to go all antisocial.”

Dan raises his eyebrows at his sister’s harsh tone and thinks that maybe it’d be better if Elora inherited the throne as she’s the one incredibly invested in this union and the betterment of their kingdom.

“We’re just worried, Dan,” his father adds more soothingly. “You’ve not been yourself lately. What’s wrong, son?”

The genuine concern in his father’s eyes makes Dan shift his away. He doesn’t want to lie to his family but telling the truth is too dangerous for now.

“I’m fine,” Dan rolls his eyes. “Everything’s fine. Actually, it’s great. Me and Madeleine had a talk and she said she’ll agree to the proposal; she doesn’t want to marry those douches anyway. The union will happen. You have nothing to worry about.”

There’s surprise on all of their faces, even on Bass’s. Dan bets that the barely functioning powers are driving the clairvoyant crazy.

“When did this happen?” The king asks.

“Why haven’t you told us about this?” Elora says at the same time.

Dan sips at his wine. “We talked on the night of the reception ball. And it’s just between me and Madeleine. But I can assure you that you have nothing to worry about; the countries will be united by the end of the year.”

Elora laughs loud and carefree, and Dan’s never seen her this happy. The king smiles and Mathias claps Dan on the shoulder saying ‘good job, bro’, and only Bass looks Dan over apprehensively. The prince ignores the latter reaction and grins to himself. For once his family is overjoyed with a decision he made and nothing will ruin this proud moment for him, he won’t allow for it.

***

“Dan, wait up,” Bass bounds to him as the prince stops in the middle of a corridor.

They have just finished the family dinner which took longer than Dan thought it would and the prince really wants to go see if Phil’s come back yet.

“What, Bass?” He says impatiently, starting to walk as soon as the clairvoyant catches up.

“I’ve had a vision leaving the king’s chamber,” his friend announces which makes Dan halt.

“Really? That’s great,” the prince smiles, trying to show enthusiasm even though his attention is focused on planning how to sneak into Phil’s room unnoticed.

“Yeah, not that great,” Bass frowns and puts a hand on Dan’s upper arm, facing him. “You’re in serious danger. I don’t know if it’s the decision to propose to Madeleine or some other one but if you keep going down this path, it’s going to end in blood.”

Dan’s smile fades alongside his good mood. “What did you see exactly?” He asks, all business now.

Bass shakes his head and sighs. “Nothing too substantial, just flickers. There was blood everywhere and it was so cold. It just felt wrong. And evil.”

“So you didn’t see me?” Dan asks, relaxing slightly.

“Not exactly, no,” the clairvoyant bites his lip.

“And all you got was a feeling?”

“Yeah, but, Dan,” Bass tries only to be stopped when Dan pats his shoulder, smiling serenely.

“Nothing will go wrong, Bass,” the prince assures. “Your powers have been haywire since we got here. Maybe you’re just picking up on the aura of the whole place. To be fair, it’s really creepy.”

Sebastian shakes his head. “No, something’s really wrong,” he insists.

“You’re overreacting, this place got to you,” Dan keeps his ground. “Get a good night’s rest and if you get some similar visions later, we’ll think of what to do with that then. Sound good?”

“Fine, whatever,” Bass steps back, running a hand through his dark hair. “We’ll talk later.”

“Stop worrying,” Dan tells his friend, walking backwards away from him. “Things are finally looking up. It’s all gonna be fine.” He smiles, trying to comfort Bass as much as himself.

“Yeah, if you say so,” the clairvoyant sighs and turns around, heading in the opposite direction.

Sebastian’s words stick in Dan’s brain the whole unnecessarily complicated way to Phil’s chamber. Usually, Bass’s premonitions come true in one way or another but he’s been known to have interpreted visions incorrectly too. Not that there’s much to interpret when seeing blood but still. Dan just doesn’t believe he’d be so unlucky or so hated by the Five that they’d ruin his life completely when everything is finally going so well.

All the dark thoughts are forgotten, however, when Dan sneaks into Phil’s room. The water mage is back, kneeling in front of the fireplace and warming up his hands. The familiar is curled up by the fire and spares Dan a disdainful glance; they’re still not on the best terms. Phil turns to look at Dan and smiles at him. The prince can’t control the blissed grin that comes across his face in answer.

“Hey,” Phil says, standing up and coming closer to Dan.

The brunet greets his lover with a soft kiss. Phil’s lips are still cold and his skin feels chilly under Dan’s exploring fingertips so he must have come back recently.

“How’d it go?” Dan asks. He skims his lips over Phil’s jawline and starts peppering kisses on his neck.

Phil hums in answer, slipping his freezing hands under Dan’s shirt and making the fire mage jump at the contact. “Still have no idea what or who’s doing this. It’s frustrating.”

“You’ll figure it out,” Dan assures the other and lifts his head to kiss Phil on the lips again; he can never get enough of Phil’s kisses.

“I hope so,” Phil sighs tiredly. “Father also gave me more men but what am I supposed to do with them when I don’t know what we’re up against?”

“I can help,” Dan suggests excitedly, taking Phil’s hand and dragging him to the desk. “We can look through the lore together, it’ll be faster.”

The prince turns around and starts dividing the books into two stacks. Phil presses himself against Dan’s back, nuzzling at the nape of his neck.

“I’ve looked through those books a dozen times, Dan,” he says against Dan’s skin, raising goose bumps on it.

“Wouldn’t hurt to look again. Maybe I’ll notice something you’ve missed,” the brunet responds but his excitement to help is being replaced with another kind of excitement at the moment, especially with the way Phil’s fingers are gliding over Dan’s ribs and lower still.

“Mmm,” Phil mouths at Dan’s neck. “Maybe you’re right,” he pulls away from Dan and goes to grab the map at the other end of the table in order to mark new x’s.

Dan scowls at him. “Tease,” he mumbles half-heartedly and Phil smirks.

They start leafing through the books, reading descriptions of various beasts to each other but nothing seems to fit. Dan can’t find a monster that can cause blinding blizzards and is fond of eating humans by the dozen, at least not one that’s not been extinct for hundreds of years. It’s tedious and Dan gets bored after an hour and he certainly can’t keep looking at those awful memory pictures Phil’s got of the crime scenes.

So Dan refocuses his attention. He lifts his head from reading the book on his lap and runs his eyes over Phil’s form. The water mage is hunched over the desk, his posture tense as he rubs at his neck and moves his shoulders to relieve the stiffness. And then the prince gets an idea of how to entertain himself.

Putting the volume aside, Dan gets off the bed and walks over to the multitude of Phil’s shelves. The other mage has been trying to teach the prince about herbs and potions and what not but Dan’s not a good student, especially when he gets distracted by Phil’s pink and kissable lips or his collarbones peaking from out of his shirt or the accidental skin on skin contact that sparks more than innocent interest in Dan. But Dan remembers a few of the more basic details. So he grabs a bottle of massage oil, spiced with several herbs for enhanced relaxation, and goes over to where Phil’s sitting.

Dan doesn’t say anything. He simply leans on the back of the chair with one arm, fingers of his free hand skimming over Phil’s neck, eliciting a shudder. The prince smiles to himself. Leaning forward even more, his lips brush over the skin behind Phil’s ear, then he grazes his teeth over the lobe. Phil sighs, his head tips to the side, exposing more skin to Dan.

The book Phil’s been reading lies forgotten as Dan bites and kisses the smooth skin beneath his mouth while his fingers work on getting rid of Phil’s shirt. Once the garment is off, the brunet pours some of the oil on his hands and starts working on Phil’s tense muscles. This earns him more than a measly sigh and Dan grins to himself, pleased.

He looks down, his digits gliding smoothly over Phil’s glistening skin. The water mage’s tattoos start thrumming and light up in subtle blues and muted whites. The power contained within them spills over Dan’s fingers, stinging slightly. It’s a sight Dan can never get enough of and he’s extremely proud he’s the only one who can cause such a reaction in Phil. And he’s also maybe a little bit smug that no one else but him gets to witness this.

Having sufficiently worked on the knots in Phil’s back, Dan changes course a bit and straddles Phil. He pours more of the massage oil onto his hands and starts gliding his hands over Phil’s tattooed chest.

“You’re a distraction,” Phil smirks, running his fingertips over Dan’s thighs.

“Are you not enjoying this?” The prince lifts an eyebrow, his digits digging deep into Phil’s shoulder, making the mage wince. Dan smiles innocently.

Phil leans forward, capturing Dan’s lips and effectively wiping the smile off his face. Dan’s fingers still, he’s too focused on exploring Phil’s mouth to be bothered with the half-arsed attempt at a massage. Really, it was more of an excuse to feel up his lover.

Dan gasps into Phil’s mouth when the mage grips the back of the prince’s knees and pulls him flush against himself. Energy builds up in the air and Dan can feel his sigils waking. Both of them are breathing more and more erratically, hands wandering over heated skin, every touch drawing out a moan or a sigh. But just as Dan wants to take it further, Phil slows down. Kisses go from needy and desperate to slow and sweet, caresses get gentler and softer, and then Phil pecks Dan’s lips a few times before pulling away.

Phil’s hands are still beneath Dan’s shirt, thumbs drawing circles on Dan’s ribs, tickling just a bit. “I should get back to work.”

Dan hums noncommittally, eyes focused on Phil’s swollen lips. “Or you could let me make you all relaxed and loose and have my wicked way with you.” He grins and Phil huffs a laugh.

Dan leans in, brushing his lips over the shell of Phil’s ear. “You know I can make it worth your while,” he whispers.

The brunet moves his lips to Phil’s jaw, nipping a couple of times before covering the area with kisses. His hands glide lower between them, teasing. A moan of Dan’s name falls from Phil’s lips, his fingers gripping at Dan’s thighs harder, and Dan congratulates himself on being an amazing mastermind manipulator.

He’s bent uncomfortably and busy with leaving a bruise on Phil’s collarbone where no one would notice, enjoying the sweet sounds Phil’s making, when an ‘oh’ leaves the water mage’s mouth. Dan wouldn’t think much of it but it doesn’t sound breathy or moany but more surprised, and Phil’s no longer returning the heated touches. So the prince lifts his head, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh?” Dan repeats, staring at Phil who’s looking wide-eyed behind the prince.

“The map,” Phil says as if it explains anything at all. “The x’s.”

“Really?” Dan huffs in annoyance. “I’m giving you my best and you’re staring at a map?”

“They’re circling the castle, Dan.” Phil leans forward, extending his hand, presumably to get the map, and Dan has to lean backwards and use his admittedly awful balancing skills to not fall off Phil’s lap.

“Look,” Phil says, excitedly waving the map in front of Dan’s face.

The prince has his arms crossed, staring at Phil with his most not impressed expression ever and silently communicating how he’s judging Phil for finding a fucking map more interesting than Dan’s ministrations.

“Sorry,” Phil has the decency to say, pecking Dan’s lips quickly before he’s waving the map again. “But just look at it,” he pleads.

Dan rolls his eyes and directs them downwards to the offending piece of parchment.

“See how at first most of the killings happened in the east?” Phil starts explaining, all adorably excited that he finally got some puzzle pieces slotted into place. It nearly makes Dan smile. _Nearly_. Because he’s still irritated that a bloody map stole Phil’s attention from Dan.

“But then it spread out to the south and north, right?” The mage continues. “Not a lot to be noticeable at the time but now there are more and more murders happening there. And the latest ones,” he taps the newest two red marks. “They’re in the west.”

Dan narrows his eyes slightly, considering what Phil is saying. Then he grabs a pencil from the desk and connects several of the x’s, creating a slightly wavy but still discernible circle around the castle grounds. Alright, Phil’s theory seems to be plausible.

“But what exactly does that mean?” Dan furrows his eyebrows. “Are they gonna attack the castle? Why not just do it now?”

Phil bites at his bottom lip, running a hand through his hair and pushing the fringe away. It distracts Dan for half a heartbeat. “I don’t know,” Phil murmurs, exhaling slowly. “Maybe whatever these creatures are, they’re not strong enough right now. Maybe they’re gathering an army.”

Dan gulps at the implications of that. “You’re thinking a war? Against supernatural creatures that like to feast on human flesh? Awesome.”

The prince runs a hand down his face, his previous good mood disappearing quickly, and frowns at the oil still left on his hands that he now smeared over his face.

“I have to tell my father,” Phil decides. Dan doesn’t question him and gets off his lap immediately.

“I really hope you’re wrong about this,” the prince mumbles, clutching the map and watching as Phil shrugs on his shirt.

“Yeah, me too,” he says grimly. Then Phil presses his lips against Dan’s, taking the parchment from him and rushing out the door, Kitsu hot on his heels.

Dan leans against the table, sighing softly. He glances at the fire crackling in the fireplace and wonders if anything in his life will ever be easy.


	10. 3 days until Winter Solstice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things will get fun from here on out!! And by 'fun' I mean 'fucked up as hell for the boys'.
> 
> Warning for a not really descriptive **panic attack** nearing the end of the chapter!!

He’s cold for the first time since he can remember. Dan’s teeth are chattering, his muscles are spasming and his skin tingles painfully. Opening his eyes, he’s met with a dark abyss splattered with specks of white. The night sky.

_What the actual fuck?_

The prince blinks several times and then he’s sitting up and glancing around. The waning moon doesn’t provide much light, however, so he only glimpses huge banks of pristine snow and shadowy figures of trees. He’s in the middle of the woods.

Dan gapes at his surrounds for a couple of minutes before another shudder runs through his body reminding him of the cold. The prince swears out loud. With trembling fingers he skims over his tattoos, muttering incantations under his breath. Oh so slowly the sigils wake up one by one, glimmering in shades of red and orange in the darkness, and Dan’s body is being warmed up once again.

The mage produces a flame in his palm, taking a better look around. There’s nothing useful to be seen even with the provided advantage of light, simply more snow and more trees. Not that there being any landmarks would help Dan as he doesn’t know the woods at all. Fuck.

Getting up, Dan groans like an old man. His muscles are stiff, skin red from frostbite, which is a first for him and he doesn’t appreciate it at all. He’s also half-naked, only wearing the pajama pants he went to sleep with. Clearly, those won’t help much in this kind of weather.

The prince runs the fingers of his free hand through his hair, wondering in which direction he should be heading. It doesn’t help that somehow there aren’t any tracks that he must have made stumbling here.

And just by the way, sleepwalking is a new and creepy one. Dan hated the nightmares and the anxiety but this one is just outright terrifying. He’ll have to get a couple soldiers to stand guard at his door at night from now on.

Not having much to go on, Dan just picks a direction and starts walking. The light breeze makes the tree branches squeak ominously and snowflakes swirl around him, tumbling down from the disturbed branches. The prince loathes every second of this and scowls at every rustling bush, dreading that one of the things that goes bump in the night will show and swallow him whole. Or worse, drag him to its cave and torture him for days. Or maybe it will eat him nice and slow while Dan’s still alive and screaming his lungs out, only no one will hear him in this gods forsaken forest.

Yeah, nice thoughts to be thinking while trudging through pitch black woods. The prince tries to not let those kinds of ideas into his brain but he’s not successful.

“Stupid forest,” Dan mumbles to himself, bending low to avoid a fir branch in the face. “Stupid spooky castle making me sleepwalk. I’m so getting out of here the first chance I get.”

He stops short, his heart rabbiting a mile a minute, his eyes wide, when he hears a blood curdling scream. It’s not that far off either because Dan heard it clear as a bell. He swears again.

The scream resounds once more, followed by hissing. Dan curses his luck of running into someone being torn apart by a bear or some other animal in the middle of nowhere. Of course, he could just ignore it and try and find a road or something but, apparently, he’s too good of a person to do so. Damn it.

Extinguishing the flame in his palm, Dan heads in the direction from which the crunching noises and the garbled shouts are coming from. He treads barefoot over the snowy forest floor, the elevated heat of his body melts the snow away with every step he takes. Too soon for Dan’s liking the sounds get louder and clearer and he glimpses a small clearing through the thickness of trees. The prince stops at the edge and looks upon the scene with bated breath.

The half-moon bathes the girl in a muted light. Her head is turned Dan’s way, tears glistening on her cheeks as she tries to extend a hand towards him. The beast hovering above her doesn’t notice this. It plunges its skeletal clawed hand into the girl’s chest, bones crunch loudly in the stillness of the night. Dan watches the girl’s eyes widen and her whole body spasm.

Then the beast tugs the heart out of her, blood spilling over the pristine white blanket of the forest floor. It lifts itself up on two hind legs, towering taller than any person, moonlight and shadows making him look even more thin and bony than it is. Lifting up its hand, the beast looks at the heart before biting into it. Its hollow eyes are fixed on Dan, who can’t even move, and blood runs from his sharp toothed mouth.

After that it’s all a blur to Dan. He gets dizzy and his brain fogs up and he thinks he hears someone else shouting but not in pain like the girl did, he thinks he hears incantations or at least coherent words. But the prince is not sure of anything. The only thing stuck in his brain is the eyes of the girl and her reaching for him. Then it goes black.

***

Dan’s standing in front of the intricately carved door having no idea how he got here. The last thing he remembers is falling asleep in his own chamber. Following more instinct than reason, the prince knocks on the door. He frowns watching his hand and lifts up the other to inspect it too. They’re both red.

“The Five have mercy,” he hears Phil’s voice and lifts his eyes to see the other mage standing in the doorway with wide eyes and a shocked expression. “What happened? Are you hurt?” Phil demands at once, grabbing Dan’s wrist and pulling him into the chamber.

Dan looks down at himself; there’s blood all over him. “I don’t think it’s mine,” the prince mumbles numbly, completely complying with Phil’s manhandling.

Phil sits him down on a chair and throws a blanket over him. Dan realises he’s shaking like a leaf. Examining hands run over Dan’s body, searching for injury.

“Yeah,” Phil exhales heavily, kneeling in front of Dan. “Not yours,” he agrees.

“I don’t know what happened, Phil,” Dan whispers, staring at his blood stained fingers.

Tears well in Dan’s eyes when the only option of why he’s all bloody he can think of is that he murdered someone. Clearly, the nightmares and sleep deprivation finally got to him and in a bad way. He murdered someone and he doesn’t even remember who.

“You didn’t, Dan, you didn’t,” Phil hushes him, stroking his cheeks clean of tears. Dan realises he must have voiced his panicked thoughts out loud.

“Then how do you explain this?” Dan nearly shouts, angry at himself, at Phil, at this whole fucked up situation.

“I don’t know,” Phil responds calm and collected. “But you couldn’t have done this. We’ll figure out what happened, I promise.”

The water mage hugs the prince tightly, humming a soothing tune and carding through his hair. Dan latches onto Phil, still shaking uncontrollably only now with the added bonus of sobbing. They stay like that until dawn breaks.

***

It’s later in the day and Dan’s gotten a couple hours of fitful sleep. He refused Phil’s offer of breakfast and stayed cocooned in at least three blankets on Phil’s bed after taking an hour long shower which didn’t make him feel cleaner at all. Phil’s familiar is sitting on the bed with him and its decent enough to not glare at Dan in complete hate.

A shudder runs through Dan’s body when an image of an abnormally long limbed bony creature arises in his mind’s eye. He knows he’s seen it before but can’t pin point where or when or why he’s remembering that and not what occurred last night. And every time he closes his eyes, Dan catches glimpses of dead eyes staring straight at him and hands reaching for him, asking for help. It’s unsettling to say the least.

Phil finally returns to the chamber and his fox jumps off the bed to go greet him. The mage kneels and rubs the familiar’s head.

“Did anyone –,” Dan starts asking but bites his lip. “What did you find out?” He questions instead.

The water mage abandons his soul animal, which stares at his retreating back disapprovingly, and sits down on the bed next to Dan.

“No one’s missing from the castle,” Phil responds, taking Dan’s hand and twining their fingers together. “I told you that you didn’t do this,” he murmurs and places a kiss on the back of Dan’s hand. “I don’t know how you got all bloody but you _didn’t murder anyone_ ,” he says the last words with emphasis, trying to engrain them into Dan’s brain.

The prince exhales slowly and closes his eyes. He didn’t do it. He didn’t hurt anyone. Dan lets the idea sink in and feels himself relaxing, his heart no longer threatening to jump out his chest.

“Yeah, okay,” he whispers to himself and opens his eyes.

Phil’s right there, being all supportive and shit, and Dan leans forward, kissing him softly. “Thanks,” the prince breathes against the mage’s lips.

Phil smiles, pecks Dan’s lips a couple more times. “You’re welcome.” He pulls away slightly. “But I have some bad news too. There are reporters in the castle, they’ve arrived this morning and I’m guessing you’ll have lots of interviews to give.”

The prince groans, slumping in on himself and shimmying into a lying position. “I don’t want to,” he whines childishly.

The water mage smirks and tugs at their intertwined hands. “But you have to,” he says. “Come on, get up, you have to be in your room when someone comes to tell you about this.”

“Ugh, fine,” Dan says grudgingly and sits up. He steals another few kisses from Phil until they’re both giggling and Phil has to actually push Dan out of the room.

The prince’s smile diminishes quickly once the door is closed and he’s left alone. Turning around, he heads to his own chamber and repeats to himself that he didn’t do anything wrong last night. It’s not that effective when there’s no Phil to support that statement.

“Your Royal Highness,” Dan hears next to his ear when a hand lands on his shoulder.

The prince jumps slightly and turns his head to see Sebastian who only lifts an eyebrow.

“I called your name like three times,” the clairvoyant says.

“Sorry,” the brunet responds on impulse. “Got lost in my own head. What’s up?” He tries to play it cool, like he wasn’t wandering the castle all bloodied and out of his mind just a few hours ago.

Bass narrows his eyes at the prince, regarding him curiously. “Why are you wearing pajamas and wandering a second floor corridor?”

 _Busted. Again_ , Dan thinks to himself. Apparently, he’s really not that good at sneaking around as he thought he is.

“You know I can’t sleep in this castle,” the prince responds, spinning a quick lie. “I was just taking a walk. Did you want something in particular?” He asks, trying to distract his friend from further questioning, for example, why Dan’s taking a walk so close to Phil’s chamber.

“Yeah,” Bass draws the word out, still looking at Dan a bit suspiciously. “Some journalists arrived at the castle this morning. Your father sent me to tell you to get ready because there’s gonna be a lunch slash interview kind of thing with the two royal families.”

Dan rubs at his eyes with the heels of his hands. “Just brilliant,” he mutters. Not only will he have to endure interviews but he’ll also have to pick and choose every damn word in front of Madeleine’s and his own family.

“Good luck,” Bass pats him on the shoulder before bounding off.

Yeah, Dan will need a fuckton of that.

***

Dan’s right knee is bouncing, nearly hitting the table, and he’s nervously biting at his thumbnail. Elora sends him a narrow-eyed look that probably means ‘stop fucking fidgeting for the sake of the Five’ but Dan completely ignores her because there are at least fifteen reporters sat around the table and Cornelia is giving him these long glances that make Dan want to hide under a rock indefinitely. Then Madeleine places a hand on his knee and the prince meets her eyes. She smiles comfortingly and Dan exhales slowly, calming a fraction.

He can do this. He’s done plenty of interviews before. He’s _lied_ on plenty of interviews before. But Dan’s never done that in front of two royal families, a bunch of reporters and so many servants who will spread the word on what happens today throughout the entirety of the castle, most likely even reaching Phil. Brilliant.

The first dishes are served and the prince can only make himself take the fork and push the food around as he’s too nervous to even take a bite. Glancing at his half-filled wine glass, Dan wants to grab it immediately and down it all but getting drunk out of his mind would probably be counterproductive so he restrains himself. He’s playing this safe.

The questioning begins simple enough: how are you liking your stay here, are you excited for the upcoming festivities, what’s been your favourite thing so far, and the like. Dan’s answer to the first one is lying through his teeth and saying how wonderful everything is. The second one gets the reply of a sarcastic ‘extremely’ out of him before Elora glares at him and starts rattling off a list of what she’s looking forward to. For the third Dan braces himself and puts on the best act of his life, gazing (hopefully) with the utmost adoration at Madeleine and saying, “Meeting Madeleine has to be the highlight of this trip for me.”

That statement earns him a smile from the princess, Mat chokes on his wine, Elora only lifts an eyebrow probably because of the cheesiness, and Cornelia smirks like a cat that caught the canary. He doesn’t get a chance to see the reactions of others as suddenly he’s bombarded with questions.

“So are the rumours true that you’ve been courting Princess Madeleine?”

“Can we expect an engagement proposal?”

“Are you thinking of uniting the kingdoms via marriage?”

And lots of others similar in tone.

Dan forces a somewhat natural laugh out of himself. “Where would be the fun in revealing all of it now? I guess, you’ll have to wait until the Solstice to see how this pans out.” A short and vague answer which if it were to reach Phil’s ears would not betray anything.

“Oh, but we must have more details about your relationship,” a scrawny girl demands excitedly. Dan vaguely remembers her saying she’s from one of those tabloids. Figures. “The citizens of your kingdoms would be very interested in that.”

Thank the Five, Madeleine takes up to answer that. She smiles serenely and not so subtly twines their fingers together on the table top. “Dan and I have been spending a lot of time together. And, dare I say, we’re enjoying each other’s company immensely.” She casts a shy look Dan’s way and Dan’s thrown for a second because, damn, Madeleine can act.

“I,” the prince nearly chokes but manages to plough through. “I couldn’t agree more,” he forces another decent smile.

There, it’s done. No mentions of actual proposal plans, nothing set in stone, nothing Dan can’t deny as misinterpretation if Phil asks. Everything’s just peachy.

“Prince Daniel,” a guy with a nasty twist to his lips that makes him look instantly not trustworthy starts, “and have you been enjoying our king’s bastard’s company as well?” He smirks which makes him look even more evil.

The table falls completely silent in a matter of nanoseconds. Dan doesn’t even dare glance at the Bourbon queen who’s surely furious as all Underworld, or at his father who’s probably got his lips pursed in disapproval, or at Elora whose glare he can feel burning a hole into the side of his face. No one jumps to help Dan out of this one.

“Uh,” the prince draws out eloquently. _Great start, Howell_ , he thinks to himself. _Just pull it together and_ lie _. You’re stellar at that. Lie_. But all that comes out of his mouth is a stuttered, “I-I’m s-sorry?”

“Philip Lester,” the slimy guy elaborates, clearly enjoying Dan’s squirming. “The bastard you’ve been seen,” a dramatic pause, “ _conversing_ with on more than one occasion. You must enjoy his company too, no?” A daring raise of an eyebrow and that self-satisfied smile. Dan wants to choke the dickish asshole on the spot.

Dan swallows the giant lump in his throat. Everyone’s staring between him and the asshat of a reporter and it doesn’t take long for Dan to figure out that that question has surprised them all, not just the prince himself.

And side note, where in the holy fields of the Afterlife did the guy get his information from? Who in this castle would want him humiliated like that?

“Phi-lip,” Dan stumbles over the name, only half-way through realising he should probably say Phil’s full name, “has been very helpful in teaching me about herbs and potions. As you can see, I’m not very good at that,” he adds a self-deprecating laugh, motioning to his sigils out of which none are for mastering potions.

Cornelia gives Dan a considering look over her wine glass, her red lips hugging the rim almost obscenely, and Dan just knows he’ll be hearing from her later about this whole mess. At least Madeleine shows her support of Dan by squeezing their still intertwined fingers.

“Teaching you about herbs and potions in the middle of the night in his chamber?” The guy tilts his head to the side as if genuinely confused, a small frown between his eyebrows.

And what the fuck?! How could he possibly know that? Fuck fuck fuck. Clearly, they haven’t been stealthy enough.

Dan feels his heartbeat rising quickly and his sigils flare up so he hides his arm under the table. Once again, no one offers Dan an easy out. And once again, fuck of massive proportions.

The prince inhales slowly, trying to calm his magic. “Phil is an extremely busy person as he’s trying to solve the murders of innocent people,” Dan replies, letting anger and indignation into his tone and not the overwhelming panic that’s stirring in his belly. “He devotes the time he has for my lessons and I’m grateful for that.”

“Do your _lessons_ last all night long?” The guy presses further. “My sources say that you don’t come back to your own chamber after these _lessons_?”

Frick on a stick with a brick. Dan wishes all the possible bad luck onto this guy. What is he supposed to answer to that one?

“That is enough,” Dan’s father says, voice laced with rage and his glare would make even the manliest of men hide under the table. “You have crossed a line and my son will no longer be answering these kinds of ridiculous foul rumour based questions anymore. Either you stay quiet or leave.”

The slimy dude just smirks. “My apologies, Your Highness,” he says. “I’ll keep my questions to myself then.”

No one even dares to touch that line of questioning afterwards and as a bonus Dan’s left pretty much out of the conversation which works perfectly fine for him. He has the whole of the meal to figure out an escape plan so that no one would approach him afterwards. And if that fails, he thinks of possible answers he could give his father to explain it all. Sadly, none of the answers seem even slightly believable so running away it is.

When the lunch from hell ends, Dan gets up as fast as he can, not even planning on sticking around to do the whole polite shtick of shaking hands and thanking the journalists for coming. He briefly glances at his father, who’s already risen from the table as well and is talking to one of the reporters, and catches his eye. The king has his jaw set and in his eyes there’s a look of such disappointment and disapproval that stops Dan short.

“If you’re still planning on running away, you should do it now,” Madeleine whispers from beside the prince.

Dan just nods his head absently. He casts his glance away from his father and tries to smile at the princess. “Thanks for having my back during all this,” he tells her.

“I should’ve helped you when they started asking about Phil too,” Madeleine bites her lip, looking away. “I’m sorry. I just wasn’t prepared for those kinds of questions.”

 _No kidding_ , Dan thinks to himself, snorting softly. Then he surveys the myriad of journalists gathered around the two kings and the queen. “How do you think he knew about me and Phil?” He murmurs lowly.

“I don’t know,” the princess shakes her head. “But I can try to find out?” She looks up at him searchingly.

“Yeah,” Dan grants her with a more genuine smile this time. “I’d really appreciate that.”

He gets roped into the niceties after all, having missed his chance of escape. The asshole actually approaches Dan during this with that evil smirk of his.

“Prince Daniel,” he says all cheery and it grates on Dan’s nerves. “I was wondering if we could continue our conversation in private?”

 Dan bites the inside of his cheek so he wouldn’t start shouting profanities. The nerve on this guy. “I would very much rather not.” The prince says with finality.

“Why? You don’t have anything to hide, do you?” He inquires with false politeness in his tone.

And Dan’s had enough so he gets right up in the guy’s face, hand on his shoulder, gripping tight and burning hot as Dan wakes a sigil by only thinking about it. “Listen to me, you slimy piece of crap, I don’t know where you got your information from but you should definitely shut up about it. Neither me nor my family, nor the Bourbons for that matter, will have this ruined. So if you value your safety, leave it alone.”

The prince has never really threatened anyone; he usually manages to charm people into doing what he wants. But he thinks he’s done a half decent job of it.

The guy inclines his head, his smile replaced with an uncomfortable frown and his shoulder twitching. “As Your Royal Highness commands,” he says.

Dan squeezes his shoulder, pulsing more heat through his hand and making the guy grimace. “I’m glad we understand each other.”

There’s a flash of claws in Dan’s mind’s eye and the feeling of heat surging out of his fingertips. Glassy eyes stare at him. A hand reaching for him. His own hands, dripping with blood. Hissing.

The visions are gone in less than a second. The douchey reporter is turning away from him and it’s all Dan can do to not start hyperventilating. He so knew the nightly escapade he had will come crashing down on his psyche.

Someone claps him on the shoulder, thanking for a lovely lunch, and Dan plasters a smile for the next journalist to shake his hand. There’s no time for him to have a mental breakdown.

Once the room is clear of the money grabbing vultures, Dan doesn’t even have time to stop imaging his hands stained with thick red blood before his father storms up to him.

“My chamber. Now,” the king orders and Dan doesn’t have a choice but to follow him; the breakdown will have to wait. At least Elora and Mathias send him encouraging looks.

The trip to the chamber is made in silence and Dan feels like he’ll vibrate out of his skin with nerves. The door closes behind Dan with finality and he braces himself for the worst. But his father only pours himself a tumbler of whiskey and downs it all before pouring another one.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” The king asks too calm for Dan’s liking. He swirls the amber liquid, staring at it. “Now all the other reporters that witnessed your humiliation will go round telling everyone that Prince Daniel Howell is fucking the Bourbon king’s bastard while courting his daughter!” The last part is shouted out and Dan winces when the tumbler hits the wall, glass shattering everywhere and the wall staining with whiskey.

“They won’t,” Dan says in a too sure voice. “They saw you shut him down; they won’t dare.” He licks his lips in a nervous tick. “Besides, nothing is happening between me and Phil. What I told is the truth. They have no evidence.”

His father snorts, hands braced on the small round table holding alcoholic beverages which are getting his undivided attention. “You grew up in this world, Dan, you know they don’t need evidence.”

“So we deny everything they might say,” Dan shrugs. “It’s not a big deal. I’m marrying Madeleine, that hasn’t changed and that’s the most important thing.”

“You think she’ll want to marry you after this?” The king picks up another glass and pours himself some vodka. Dan would love some too right about now.

“She knows it’s not true,” Dan insists on lying. “I already told you that Phil interests me only because he’s a mage and he can teach me things.”

His father downs the drink in one go and pours more. He’s still not looking at Dan. “And he’s teaching you about herbs,” he snorts a laugh and shakes his head.

Dan clenches his jaw and balls his fists. He knows he shouldn’t say it but the words spill out anyway. “Mother never got around to teaching me so he suggested it and I agreed.”

Dan sees his father stiffen, his face cloud over, and then his hands start shaking, most likely in anger. “Don’t you dare make her a scape goat for your foolishness. She’s done enough for you. She gave her _life_ for you.” He grits through his teeth, tone deceptively calm.

“I-I’m not making her anything,” Dan stutters out because his father can be the nicest man but his angry side is not something Dan’s willing to face. “I’m just stating a fact. I never completed my training after –,” he can’t even make himself say it so he just leaves it in the air.

“That is enough,” his father says, draining another glass. “You can leave now. I’ll deal with this myself. Like with all of your messes.”

Dan wants to say something, anything that would make this better but he can only swallow down the clawing guilt, the immeasurable shame and all his lies. He doesn’t make a peep before exiting the room. Shaking like a leaf during a particularly nasty storm, the prince literally runs to ride out his oncoming panic attack in his room.

Being out of breath after a bit of exercise doesn’t help Dan at all when the anxiety and panic are already constricting his throat and making his heart thrash against his ribs. Leaning against his chamber door, the fire mage stares down at his trembling hands, his tattoos flicker intermittently in reds and oranges. Dan slides down, sitting on the ground, head between his knees.

Inhale. One, two, three, four, five. Hold. One, two, three, four, five. Exhale. One, two, three, four, five. Repeat until it’s manageable.

Dan has no idea how long he counts, wiping away the tears that just won’t stop falling, before it nears anywhere close to manageable but it’s already dark outside. Of course it means jack squat with the Solstice approaching as it’s light only for a few hours of the day so he doesn't really know what time it is. The darkness makes the anxiety stir back up and Dan can’t let it breach the surface again. Not after he worked for what feels like hours taming it. And there’s only one sure way to keep that thing at bay.

So the prince gets up and slips out of his chamber, making his way to the south wing of the second floor, not even caring about who’ll see him. Probably a bad decision. But it’ll drown in the sea of other bad and even worse ones Dan’s made.

When Dan steps into Phil’s room, without even knocking, he finds the mage shuffling in front of the myriad of shelves housing all kinds of jars and vials, a crease between his eyebrows. The familiar is sitting a couple feet away from its master, sparing a not interested glance Dan’s way.

“You looking for something?” Dan asks, staring at the whirlwind that is Phil lifting up, putting back down and moving all around the bottles and boxes.

Phil turns his head in Dan’s direction, barely even glancing at him. “Yeah,” he answers. “I went to once again try and convince my father that the threat of war is actually very real after I heard your lunch was over. When I came back, the door was ajar and nothing is quite in place,” he frowns at the jar he’s holding before putting it aside and taking another one.

Dan leans against the wall, crossing his arms. “I thought you gave up on trying to convince him after he told you that you’re delusional and that monsters can’t possibly have concepts of war.” That was three days ago when Phil busted into his father’s chambers in the middle of the night to tell him about the discovery he made. It didn’t go well.

“Yeah, but I thought I’d give it a shot,” Phil mumbles, stopping for a second, fingers drumming on a shelf as he bites his lip. “He just told me to get lost and keep my hands to myself. Whatever that means.” Phil gets back to pushing stuff around, though now there’s a more pensive look on his face.

Dan watches him flounder around for a few seconds, getting up the courage to explain what Phil’s father meant, but instead asks, “What are you looking for?” He winces internally at how much of a coward he is.

“This jar with clear gelatinous stuff in it,” Phil says, skimming the top shelves with his eyes. “It’s poisonous and easy to slip someone undetected. You wouldn’t want that getting into the wrong hands.”

“I’m sure you just misplaced it,” Dan comments.

But something in his tone must have changed because Phil turns to him, actually looking at Dan. “What happened?” He asks immediately, worry evident on his face as he takes in Dan’s appearance.

The prince glances down, scuffing at the stones of the floor with his boot. “They know about us,” he says in a whisper.

“What?” Phil questions. “Who?”

“Everyone that’s been at that lunch, basically,” Dan bites his lip. “One of the journalists got the info somehow. And I tried to dodge his questions but he knew I’ve been spending nights with you. And now everyone else knows too. That’s what your father was alluding to.” He looks up. Phil’s frowning at the shelves, his fingers tapping a fast rhythm on the wood.

“They would’ve found out anyway,” Phil finally says, meeting Dan’s gaze again. “During the Solstice when you wouldn’t have proposed to Madeleine, we would’ve told everyone then, like we agreed.”

“Right,” Dan mutters to himself, letting his gaze drop to the floor again. He’s really not a fan of how guilt won’t stop churning his guts.

Briefly, he wonders if he should tell Phil the truth about his deal with Madeleine. It’s not ideal, of course, but Phil would understand. Maybe. But Dan’s had enough of being shouted at today and trying to keep nightmarish memory flashes at bay didn’t help either so he keeps his mouth shut.

The fox catches Dan’s attention as it snorts derisively for some reason and trots off to lie by the fire. Weird creature. But then Phil’s in front of Dan, placing his hands on Dan’s shoulders.

“It’s fine, Dan,” Phil reassures him, drawing him in for a hug. “We’ll deal with this a bit earlier than we planned. It’s not a big deal.”

Dan relishes in Phil’s embrace for a few moments, squishing him close to himself, breathing him in. And then he tells at least half the truth. “I denied our relationship,” he mumbles into Phil’s shoulder. He can’t let Phil know about the deal with Madeleine but he also can’t let Phil prance around thinking their relationship is out in the open. The lesser of two evils and all that.

The water mage stills and pulls away from the prince. There’s a not so happy look on his face.

“I wasn’t ready to tell them,” Dan tries to defend himself. “You should’ve seen how my father looked at me. I couldn’t stand the disappointment so I denied it.”

Phil regards him with a hard stare, crossing his arms over his chest. “Were you even planning on telling him and your family about us?”

“Of course,” Dan lies immediately, feigning hurt. “But I’m not ready yet. And in front of all those people. I just couldn’t. I’m sorry.”

Phil sighs and rubs a hand over his face. “Alright,” he says. “We’re not confirming anything until you’re ready.”

“Thanks,” the prince mumbles and tries for a tentative smile. Phil just huffs at him but the corners of his mouth lift up and Dan’s pulled into another hug.

Over Phil’s shoulder Dan can see the soul animal shake its head in what Dan assumes is disapproval. But what does the stupid familiar know? Fuck it. And fuck his father for yelling at him, and fuck those creepy ass vision flashes and fuck overwhelming panic attacks. Basically, just fuck the whole world in general. Dan’s too beat for all that shit.

The prince closes his eyes, enjoying the warmth of Phil’s body and the tiny kisses Phil peppers on the side of Dan’s face.


	11. 2 days until Winter Solstice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're so close to the end!!!

When Dan wakes up it’s still dark outside, no matter that it’s already past nine a.m. The blackness surrounding him pisses him off. And the fact that Phil thought it’d be better if Dan didn’t spend the night with him after what happened during the Five forsaken lunch pisses him off too. Also, he’s pissed that without Phil he can’t seem to have an at least manageable amount of sleep so now he’ll have to face the day with only a few hours of shut-eye. Basically, Dan’s pissed at everyone and everything.

However, his mood lifts when he remembers Phil promising to take him on a stroll around the castle grounds before lunch. They’ve been planning to do that since almost the day they met and Dan really wants to see Phil in his element, among all that snow. He already knows it’ll be spectacular.

Once the first hints of light start flooding the prince’s room, Dan finally slips from beneath his blanket and starts getting ready for the day. Not like he was hiding from the darkness, unsettling thoughts and images of his blood-stained hands. Nope. He just wanted to stay warm and toasty in his bed.

As Dan’s shrugging on a shirt, his clairvoyant friend tumbles into his room in a hurry. The prince turns to him, lifting an eyebrow. Sebastian nearly trips on the edge of the carpet in his haste to reach the prince but manages to keep himself upright. He’s breathing harshly and leaning on the open door of the wardrobe.

“Dude, you need to exercise more,” Dan remarks with a straight face.

Sebastian glares up at him, and Dan wants to pat himself on the back for aggravating him. He doesn’t. But he does smirk evilly.

“Someone tried to poison the queen,” Bass announces, shattering Dan’s slightly uplifted mood into such tiny shards that Dan wouldn’t be able to put it back together even if he wanted nothing more.

The prince blinks for a couple of seconds, letting that sink in, already feeling an unpleasant roiling in his stomach. “Melissa’s dead?” He whispers disbelievingly, mouth slack.

Sebastian frowns. “I said ‘tried to’,” the clairvoyant rolls his eyes. “Do you ever listen to me?”

Dan groans and drags a hand down his face, relief flooding him. Then he stomps over to his friend and smacks him upside the head, glad that Bass’s powers are so fickle these days that Dan gets to actually do it.

“Idiot,” the prince mumbles while Sebastian sends him another glare. “Do they know who _tried to_ poison the queen?”

“Not yet,” Bass shakes his head. “But they’re gathering a council to find that out.”

Dan nods. This won’t be taken to lightly, especially with Dan and Madeleine’s impending engagement. He’s sure everyone will be questioned as suspects of espionage.

“Your family and the Bourbons are gathering in one of the council rooms,” Sebastian says. “Your father wants you there like five minutes ago.”

“Ugh,” the prince groans. Why do stupid attempts at murdering royalty must always ruin his mornings? But he quickly buttons up his shirt and hurries to the meeting.

When Dan enters the chamber, Melissa immediately catches his attention. She’s sitting at the head of the table, Gordon standing next to her, a hand on her shoulder. The queen doesn’t look as bad as Dan thought she would after an attempt on her life; she’s a bit pale and her hands are trembling slightly but her back is straight and the strict glare is still in her eyes.

“Sorry I’m late,” Dan says to the room at large and goes to join his brother and sister who are leaning against the table.

The prince sends an empathetic look Madeleine’s way and she gives him a sad little quirk of the lips. Cornelia, on the other hand, looks murderous and her ruby red lips are set into a prim line. The youngest of the princesses, Alessandra, is kneeling next to their mother, holding her hand. Dan’s father doesn’t even glance at him. The prince pretends it doesn’t elicit a sharp tug on his heart.

“So what do we know as of now?” Elora breaks the silence that Dan’s sudden arrival conjured up.

“The poison has been found on the rim of my glass,” Melissa answers, chillingly calm. “It’s colourless, odourless and tasteless. A thin coating of it was hardly noticeable.”

“The council we set up,” the Bourbon king says, “is questioning the kitchen staff as we speak.”

“You’re sure one of them is responsible for this?” Dan wonders, bunching his brow in confusion. Something just doesn’t add up. Why today of all days? The security is already heightened at the castle because of the murders and the upcoming festivities. There's no way an assassin could just slip in and out undetected, and if anyone from the staff got bribed to do this then they'd be easily found too. But then again, who's Dan to question the methods of murderous freaks?

“Who else?” Gordon sighs wearily. “They were responsible for the food and the tableware. Of course, the servants that delivered it all will be questioned too.”

“We will find who did this to you, mother,” Cornelia suddenly chimes in; Dan recognises Melissa’s chilly tones in her voice. “Even if I have to stand there and pull the answers out of those peasants myself.”

And woah. Dan’s already realised Cornelia’s into machinations and manipulations but he didn’t think she’s all for torturing people to get what she wants. Clearly, he underestimated her again.

Gordon clears his throat, disregarding his daughter’s outburst. “Until we find the culprit, we would ask everyone to keep this to themselves. We don’t want panic in out court.”

The Howells easily agree with it and the morning continues as if nothing happened and as if the castle staff are not being interrogated (read: tortured) in the dungeon.

***

There’s someone watching him; the prince can feel it as it raises the hairs on the nape of his neck. So he inconspicuously sweeps his eyes over the people in the courtyard but nobody’s paying him more attention than they should. Maybe he’s just paranoid after what happened to Melissa this morning.

A group of ladies pass by him, giggling amongst themselves and curtsying quickly, mumbling out a ‘Your Highness’ or ‘Your Majesty’. Dan smiles at them, nodding his head in acknowledgement and making them giggle again. This castle really needs more action if Dan’s the only attraction here.

Dan leans on a pillar, still surveying the area and wondering if waiting for Phil out in the open is a good idea right now. He has no delusions that anyone from yesterday’s disaster of a lunch believed his claims that he’s getting only magic related lessons from Phil and today’s outing might help spread the rumours about the prince’s relationship with the bastard. But Dan desperately needs some quality time with Phil so chucking caution to the wind it is.

The brunet’s musings are interrupted when someone calls for him. Dan turns his head to his left, where the sound came from, watching as Phil approaches. The prince’s smile widens, heart rate picking up a bit. He takes in Phil’s rosy cheeks from the biting chill, the mesmerising swirls of blue and green in his eyes, the soft and wind rumpled black hair, and he has to keep himself in check so he wouldn’t jump the guy in front of the whole courtyard.

“Your Grace,” Phil says again, bowing slightly. His familiar sits on its haunches, staring unnervingly at the brunet. Dan could swear by the Five that the soul animal doesn’t just dislike him, it quite obviously hates Dan’s guts.

“Lord Philip,” the prince answers for pretence sakes, the corners of his lips turn upwards.

“Shall we?” Phil asks, all polite and proper.

Dan only nods, pushing away from the pillar and falling in step with Phil. The prince would very much like to at least hold Phil’s hand or something equally ridiculous but he has to make do with walking as close to the mage as possible. It’s torture.

“Have you heard about what happened this morning?” Dan asks in a near whisper, glancing around to make sure no one’s eavesdropping on them. There’s no doubt in his mind that even if the Bourbons want to keep Melissa’s poisoning a secret, it’s just not feasible; castle gossip spreads faster than plague.

Phil shakes his head. “No. What happened?”

Huh. So maybe the Bourbons are keeping a tighter lid on this than Dan thought. Everyone involved must be terrified of Melissa.

“Oh, um,” Dan stalls, though not because he’s hesitant to share that with Phil but more because after yesterday he wants a memory with Phil that’s not tainted with royalty drama. “Nothing you should concern yourself with,” he finishes with a reassuring smile.

They slip out the gates and Phil leads them into the woods. The white fox is trotting in front of them, seemingly knowing where its master wants to go. Its fur blends perfectly with the snow. If it weren’t for the startlingly blue eyes that keep glancing back at Dan with disdain (Dan’s sure of it) every time the prince laughs at one of Phil’s jokes or makes for physical contact, you wouldn’t even notice the animal.

The further they go into the thicket, the colder it seems to get. Dan’s breath swirls in wisps of condensation in the air and Phil throws him worried glances, eyes roaming over Dan’s frame from his sneakers to his long-sleeved button up, asking if he’s cold. But the fire mage only smirks, ups his body temperature with a short incantation, the glow of a tattoo visible through the thin cotton of his shirt.

A few seconds later, seeing Phil roll his eyes, Dan thinks that he maybe should’ve played along, gotten closer to Phil for ‘warmth’. Then again, they can’t know if one of the reporters that still reside in the castle or one of the numerous spies hasn’t followed them this far; getting too physical might not be the best idea. But damn it if Dan doesn’t wish they could. The prince sighs wistfully, getting a curious look from Phil.

They end up by a lake. The water has frozen over and the sheet of ice glints in the winter sunlight. There’s a bridge connecting the shore to a small island in the middle of the water body where a pretty little gazebo resides, the dark wood of both stark against all the snow. It’s picture perfect. Dan nearly grimaces at it all.

After a quick glance around, Phil takes Dan’s hand, carefully, fingers loose around Dan’s. The prince grips them tighter, sending a reassuring smile Phil’s way, making him blush slightly of all things.

“Come on, then,” Dan says, tugging Phil along with him to the bridge.

The brunet ends up with the small of his back pressed against a railing of the gazebo, eyes skimming over the path that led them here, over sunrays playing on the ice covered pond, over icicles that hang off the roof. Dan meets Phil’s eyes. The other mage is keeping his distance, their linked hands stretched between them.

“I used to train here with my mother when I first started practising, doing simple waterbending,” Phil shares, gaze flicking to the side, a small warm smile on his lips. “They had to rebuild the bridge and the gazebo three times because of me,” he laughs, a short burst of amusement that makes the corners of Dan’s mouth curl upwards.

“I can’t even count the amount of things I set on fire before learning to control my powers,” the prince says. “There was always someone with a bucket of water or sand nearby while I trained. It made me so pissed that my mother didn’t trust me not to burn everything to the ground that I made even more mistakes while bending which didn’t encourage her to get rid of the buckets. It was a frustrating year,” now he laughs about it but at the time he raged like a proper angsty teen. His mother found it hilarious.

Phil regards him with his head tilted to the side slightly, eyes sparkling with amusement. “You look very much in control now. I can’t imagine you all spastic.”

“Gotta keep up appearances,” Dan shrugs a shoulder. “The media these days is brutal to royals.” He adds for some reason and instantly regrets it. Damn it, he wanted to make at least a day without all that crap.

“Yeah,” Phil mumbles, the smile fading from his face quickly. His fingers slide out of Dan’s grip and he stuffs his hands in the pockets of his jeans, leaving Dan’s palm empty and cold despite his elevated temperature.

“Reporters would have a field day if they caught us like this.” He glances away again, skimming the tree line, and then looks at his boots. “Maybe we shouldn’t be doing this after yesterday,” Phil looks at Dan through his lashes, biting on his lip. And how does he expect Dan to drop this when he’s playing this dirty?

“Maybe,” the prince agrees easily. _Definitely_ , his mind supplies oh so helpfully. “Doesn’t mean I don’t want to,” Dan says, gaze flicking between Phil’s eyes and his mouth. Damn that mouth; Dan wants to taste him.

And Dan’s selfish and usually takes what he wants so he doesn’t hesitate grabbing Phil’s coat, tugging the other mage towards himself. Phil’s hands land on Dan’s waist, steadying himself, a faint surprised gasp leaving him. The prince’s fingers glide over Phil’s rosy cheek, giving him time to pull back, refuse. When he doesn’t, Dan leans in, enjoying the moment.

The little puffs of breath are warm against Dan’s slightly parted lips. Phil’s tongue makes an appearance, swiping over the bottom lip, taking all of Dan’s attention for a moment. Fingers press against his naked ribs; Phil somehow managed to find his way under Dan’s shirt, not that the brunet’s complaining. The prince himself slips his fingers to the nape of Phil’s neck, tangling them in the short hairs there, his other hand still clutching the fur on the coat.

Another second of sweet anticipation and Dan can’t take it anymore. As he dips to close the gap between them, Phil flinches and stumbles back, out of Dan’s grasp. The prince frowns, wanting to ask what’s wrong, but he sees it himself.

That fucking fox. He glares at the soul animal that has its teeth sunk deep into its master’s shin, yanking him backwards and away from Dan.

“Kitsu,” Phil flails his arms, trying not to trip over the familiar. “What the hell?” At least he’s scowling at that little shit too.

The fox releases its hold, turning those icy eyes to Dan and totally glaring back. Dan has an insane urge to stick his tongue out at it but doesn’t as he’s a mature reasonable adult who will never stoop so low as to fight a familiar over its master. He might, however, lock it in a closet some time in the near future. Accidentally, of course.

“Prince Daniel,” the name is called in a sweet soft voice.

The prince lifts his head and sees Alessandra with a couple of guards and another three girls, probably her ladies-in-waiting. They all stand by the shore, the princess smiling, soft and gorgeous. Then she’s turning to her ladies, saying something before making her way over the bridge, alone.

“Philip,” Alessandra greets her half-brother with the coldest smile Dan saw in the existence of everything. It makes Dan want to shiver. He didn’t know the youngest princess was capable of that. Granted, he’s talked to her like twice with Madeleine around for supervision.

“Allie,” Phil answers in return, and is that a smug smirk playing at the corner of his mouth?

The princess sets her jaw, standing up straighter. She sends a nasty look at Phil, clearly not liking the nickname. The mage only crosses his arms, lifting an eyebrow at her, his familiar tilting its head upwards haughtily.

“Shouldn’t you be patrolling?” The princess asks, a sharp bite to her tone. And is underestimating Madeleine’s sisters a thing with Dan or what?

“Tonight,” Phil sticks to one word replies. His stance shifts to something more imposing: feet wider apart, shoulders squared, head held high; just like with Melissa that first night Dan and Phil met.

“It’s a nice day for a stroll, isn’t it? Especially to take one’s mind off of what’s happened this morning,” Alessandra directs her attention to Dan, her curls bounce against her shoulders as she turns her head.

“It is,” the prince nods slightly, leaning back against the banister. “But your mother’s fine,” he adds just to aggravate her because Dan doesn’t think Alessandra wants Phil knowing any of the details.

The princess doesn’t even blink in surprise; she probably already assumed Dan told Phil everything.

“I’m beyond happy that she is but the whole ordeal gave me such a fright. Would you mind taking a walk with me?” She offers, batting her eyelashes, bottom lip between her teeth. “The company would help me greatly,” she traps him, mouth quirking upwards in a hopeful smile.

Then Alessandra glances between Dan and Phil. “Unless I interrupted something,” the princess says, her eyes bore into Phil, daring him to say that she did so she could obviously get him in serious trouble for that.

“No,” Phil doesn’t even glance back at Dan. “I was just leaving,” he says, tone flat.

It’s weird seeing him this emotionless and tense. Something boils inside Dan and he wants to not so nicely tell Alessandra to fuck off and leave them alone. He doesn’t, of course. Just bites the inside of his cheek and makes himself look disinterested.

“Brilliant,” Alessandra claps her mitten covered hands. “Shall we?” She smiles at Dan.

The prince only pushes himself off of the railing, passing Phil and quickly finding himself in Alessandra’s clutches, both her arms winding around one of his. Dan mouths ‘later?’ to Phil as the princess is turning him around and just manages to catch Phil’s stiff nod. He’s swiftly led away after that.

Alessandra’s guards and her ladies follow them a few paces behind, an illusion of privacy when they probably can hear everything the prince and the princess are saying. And they’re absolutely listening attentively.

“It must be nice for you fire mages to never get cold,” Alessandra says. “I seem to be unable to get warm in winter,” her voice is innocent enough, making small talk, but she presses closer to Dan after that comment. The prince refuses to take the hint.

And by the way, what in the Underworld? Shouldn’t she not be flirting with her sister’s soon-to-be fiancé? Guess, she’s taking a whole different approach from Cornelia.

“Then you probably should have stayed by a fire and not wander outside,” Dan can’t stop the words from leaving his mouth. Well, he doesn’t _want_ to stop them. And he knows he should play nice but Alessandra’s behaviour with Phil grates his nerves so he retaliates on Phil’s behalf.

“I couldn’t stay locked up inside any longer,” the princess answers, ignoring the biting tone of Dan’s words. “Father didn’t want to let us out since all those horrible murders started but it’s been nearly a month and Philip hasn’t made any progress. I would have gone mad if I waited any longer, and what with the blizzard also not allowing us to get outside.” Wow, throwing Phil under the bus so easily. She would’ve made a great queen one day if she were born first.

“I’m sure he’ll solve it soon enough,” Dan says, still on the defence. “He seems like a smart guy.”

“And you seem to be quite friendly with him,” Alessandra comments too off-handedly so it makes Dan suspicious at once. “I can’t help but wonder if there’s any truth to those accusations one of the reporters made yesterday,” she glances at him, all innocence and genuine curiosity. She’s good, Dan has to admit that much.

He’s a fool, though. The prince is certain the little encounter by the gazebo wasn’t accidental at all. Most likely the spies told Alessandra about Dan and Phil’s little outing and she hurried to ruin their time. He should’ve gone with his instincts and refused to meet Phil out in the open.

Dan shrugs in answer to her. “As I said yesterday, Phil’s a mage, I’m a mage, we have things in common to talk about.” It’s not enough to convince Alessandra or make her back off but she can’t call him out on it at the very least.

“You trust him too easily,” the princess says. “Just because he’s a mage like you doesn’t mean you should become instant friends.”

“Are you warning me off him?” Dan asks incredulous.

“Oh, no,” Alessandra is all soft smiles as she shakes her head slightly. “I would never. I’m just saying that you should be careful with the company you keep. But I’m sure he’s told you all about the rumours surrounding him and you still decided to be his friend,” the last word is emphasised in a weird way, clearly stating to Dan that she knows that more than friendship is going on between the two mages.

The prince knows he shouldn’t rise to the bait but can’t help his curiosity from spiking or his brows from furrowing. “What rumours?” He asks despite himself.

“That he and his mother use dark magic,” Alessandra responds, watching him carefully. “That’s why my mother got Celeste a cabin outside the castle grounds for her to live in, because she was suspected of casting spells that are forbidden. People gossip that that’s how she enticed father and used magic to get pregnant, believing he would marry her because of it. She even made a deal with a demon for the child to be a boy so father would have an instant heir to the throne. When that didn’t happen and father married my mother instead, Celeste cursed her to only have daughters, and cursed the whole kingdom for misery until her son comes into rule.

“That’s why we have so much negative supernatural activity,” she continues, voice not wavering in the slightest. “And Philip is responsible for handling it, though many people believe he’s the one causing it. Especially with those murders happening and him not stopping them. Everyone’s a bit wary of him.”

Alessandra glances at him sideways. “Hasn’t he told you about his reputation? He must have warned you. I doubt you would have willingly associated yourself with him if you knew all that.”

“Yeah,” Dan breathes, staring straight ahead at the castle waiting for them, the snow banks around the path, frost covering the naked trees. He lost his concentration and his magic is losing its effect, cold seeping into his skin, so he has to murmur the incantation again.

“When you put it like that,” the prince mumbles, biting the inside of his cheek.

The thought of Phil being an evil sorcerer makes him want to laugh but, really, Dan doesn’t know him that well. They met not even a month ago, and usually Dan’s more suspicious of people, but Phil made trusting him easy for some reason. Dan’s decisions are known to be shitty on more than one occasion but his instincts are trustworthy more often than not. And they’re not shouting at him that Phil’s a practitioner of dark magic.

Then again, Sebastian couldn’t even read Phil so the mage could be hiding under some serious protective spells. Though, he seems so genuine with Dan. It could, also, be just a play.

Shit. _Has_ he been played? Dan gnaws on his bottom lip.

Phil might not be an evil genius but he very obviously hates the queen and her daughters. It would make perfect sense for Phil to be pissed at his father for leaving his mother for the queen. Sabotaging this whole marriage deal with Dan’s kingdom would be a great way for Phil to get back at his father. And Dan was more than willing to play along and even enjoy it.

“Those are just rumours, of course,” Alessandra’s voice pierces the thick cloud of Dan’s suffocating thoughts. “It doesn’t really mean he’s got anything to hide as long as he’s told you about all of it.” The princess sweeps her eyes over him, her long lashes swiping across her cheekbones, plump pink lips turning up in a barely there satisfied smile.

 _Yeah_ , Dan thinks. If only Phil would have told him about it.

***

It’s already dusk when Dan gets back to his room, though it’s still early afternoon. The one thing that unnerves the prince the most about winter this far up north is how quickly the sun disappears behind the horizon. Being a fire mage, he finds himself at his strongest when the sun is clearly visible, and he detests these long nights when he can feel his power waning. But the nights are still to get longer until Winter Solstice. Dan can’t wait for the sun to shine more than a handful of hours a day.

He flops onto his bed in the nearly pitch black room and stares at the ceiling. Unfortunately, it doesn’t provide any answers that he seeks. His head is spinning with Alessandra’s implications about Phil and he can’t decide whether he believes her or not.

On one hand, all of Phil’s actions seem awfully convenient. He made sure not to be too easy so Dan wouldn’t suspect anything was afoot. He even showed a proper amount of resistance when Dan proclaimed that he wants to be with Phil. Certainly, fucking and making his half-sister’s fiancé-to-be fall in love with him is a perfectly good plan to get back at his father.

But even thinking like that about Phil doesn’t sit well with Dan. Phil couldn’t have faked all that genuine care for people being slaughtered. He can’t be that good of an actor to pretend all the time being with Dan; he would’ve slipped and Dan would’ve noticed. Dan’s sure of it.

The prince bites his lip. Or maybe Dan’s fallen so hard and deep that he wouldn’t have noticed? Hell, what does he know? He’s never been in love, he’s never been in an actual relationship, he wouldn’t know what to look for.

Groaning, Dan turns to his side and mumbles an incantation into the duvet. Flames appear on every candle in the room but even that doesn’t make the prince feel better. He idly wonders how in the nine rings of the Underworld could his situation with Phil gotten any more fucked up. Maybe there’s a curse on their relationship.

There’s a knock on his door and Dan mumbles out a ‘come in’. He watches Mathias slip into his chamber and approach Dan’s bed, taking a seat. The younger prince looks down in his lap, his hands under his thighs, feet beating against the frame of the bed.

“Dad heard you took a walk with Gordon’s bastard,” he begins, voice quiet.

“Phil,” Dan interrupts without really meaning to. He’s still lying on his side, picking at a thread on the duvet.

Mathias glances at him. “Phil,” he repeats, nodding. “Dad’s pissed. He said he thought you’d know better than to take your fuck buddy on dates.”

Dan frowns immediately, hand clenching into a fist. “He’s not my _fuck buddy_ ,” the prince hisses out. “I care about him. And if I wanna take him on a date then I will.”

“Dan, even I know that was a too bold move,” Mathias says. “You should’ve let the dust settle down.”

The brunet doesn’t answer, he just sulks into the duvet. Mat sighs. “Anyway. Elora was ready to barge in in here and crush you to smithereens so be glad I managed to talk her out of it.” He offers Dan a smile.

“Much appreciated,” Dan grumbles.

Mathias regards him closely. “You can’t be moping this hard about Melissa. Did your date not go well?”

“It got hijacked,” Dan shrugs a shoulder. “Alessandra came by and made me take a walk with her. She told me some nasty stuff about Phil.”

“You believed her?” Mat lifts an eyebrow. His brother might be the most laid back and easy-going person but one doesn’t grow up in a royal court and have his trust in people intact.

Dan shrugs again. “Dunno,” he mumbles. “It doesn’t add up with the Phil I know but I could be wrong.”

“Talk to him,” Mathias suggests. “Communication is key,” he smirks down at Dan and the older prince huffs a laugh.

Their mother used to say that when Dan and his siblings got into squabbles when they were little. She’d make them talk their feelings out, and Dan felt stupid when confessing to Elora that he ruined her fake dragon fighting by pushing her into a puddle because he wanted to put on a tiara too and play with her or when telling Mathias that he pelted him with rocks because Mat had perfected doing the cartwheel before Dan did. Dan totally forgot about that.

“Wise words,” Dan says, sitting up and bumping his shoulder into his brother’s.

“She was a wise woman,” Mat mumbles then bites his lip. “I miss her so much I sometimes can’t breathe.”

Dan gulps down the lump in his throat. It dawns on him that he and Mathias haven’t ever talked about losing their mother, haven’t shared memories of her. Bass was right; Dan never got over his grief and didn’t help his family grieve. He’s been a shitty brother and son.

“I miss her too,” Dan whispers, putting an arm over his brother’s shoulders and pulling him close.

Mat exhales shakily, leaning into Dan. “It wasn’t your fault,” he says so low Dan thinks he imagined it. “None of us blame you for it.”

Dan clenches his jaw, shutting his eyes. He can’t mutter out a ‘thanks’ or ‘I know’ or ‘it _was_ my fault’; it all gets stuck in his throat, the lies and the truths. Instead, he places a kiss into his brother’s curls, just like their mother used to do.

Then Dan jumps at the sudden noise of his chamber door being flung open with too much force. A wide-eyed Bass appears in the doorway.

“You have to come quick,” he says before running out again.

Dan and Mat have only a second to glance at each other and then they’re running after Bass. The clairvoyant leads them to the second floor and Dan furrows his brows. Dan’s heart lurches into overdrive when they turn a corner to the south wing.

“Father, please,” the prince hears Phil’s too familiar voice. “I didn’t do it!”

Dan stops in his tracks, jaw dropping, eyes bulging out. There Phil is: wrists in shackles, four guards surrounding him, two of them gripping his upper arms and one of them holding a cage with a raging Kitsu in it. Gordon and Melissa are standing in front of Phil, their backs to Dan, a few nobles Dan doesn’t know hover next to them. Cornelia is between Phil and their father, sneering at her half-brother.

“What’s going on?” Dan manages to find his voice, glaring at Bass.

“Cornelia claims that Phil’s the one who tried to poison Melissa,” Sebastian answers in a whisper.

“No,” Dan shakes his head. He steps closer to the scene but Mat and Bass catch him and drag him back into hiding. Dan can’t help but peek from around the corner.

“The poison was made by you,” Cornelia glowers at Phil dangerously. “Do you deny it?”

Phil’s jaw clenches. The mage looks away from her and meets Dan’s eyes. There’s no surprise in his expression at seeing the prince. “No,” he says. Then returns his gaze to the princess. “But that particular poison was stolen from me last night.”

Dan nearly chokes on air. The missing jar with a clear substance. The poison being colourless, without a scent or taste to it.

“Really?” Cornelia crosses her arms, raising an eyebrow, her red lips are pursed into a thin line. “Rather convenient, don’t you think? Does anyone know about this supposed theft?”

Phil’s eyes flicker to where Dan’s hiding behind a corner. “No,” he grounds out. The glare he directs Cornelia’s way is full of ice.

Dan should really interrupt that farce and tell them that _he_ knows. But Phil would’ve called attention to the prince if he wanted his help. Maybe now is not the best time to tell everyone that Dan’s been with Phil last night.

“Send him to the dungeon, Gordon,” Melissa chimes in, sounding smug. “We can deal with him after the Solstice celebration.”

Dan can’t see the king’s expression, or the queen’s for that matter, but the hesitation is obvious.

“Father,” Phil addresses him again. “You know I would never do something like that. I’m being set up. You have to believe me.”

“Oh, stop with the lies,” Melissa scorns. “There’s enough proof for you to lose your head. You won’t get out of this easily.”

Dan hears the king sigh. There’s a murmured command and Phil nearly growls at Melissa and Cornelia. The water mage doesn’t say another word as guards drag him away.

Dan flattens his back against the stone wall, closing his eyes for a minute.

“We have to go, Dan,” Mat whispers next to him, tugging at his sleeve.

Nodding, the prince pulls away from the cold surface and follows after Mat and Bass. Dan drags his hand through his hair in a nervous tick. He has no idea what to do now. Or whom to believe.


	12. 1 day until Winter Solstice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tried a bit different narrative style than usual, hope you enjoy!!

  _~ 25 hours ago ~_

“How long has he been sitting there?” Elora’s concerned whispering barely registers in Dan’s mind.

He’s sitting on his bed, elbows braced on his knees, chin on his linked fingers, gazing out the balcony window at the pitch black nothingness. The prince has his back to the door and the rest of the room but he knows Sebastian and his siblings are in the room. He doubts anyone else is here. Certainly not his father.

“A couple hours,” Mathias’s voice is quiet, mimicking their sister’s. “Since Phil got arrested. He’s not taking to it well.”

Dan wants to snort at that comment but can’t find it in himself to do anything else but just sit here and stare.

“I was with Phil before it happened,” Sebastian says it slowly, carefully. “We were talking about –,” the clairvoyant stops abruptly. “Nevermind,” Dan hears him mutter. “Basically, minutes before they came for him, he figured out someone was trying to set him up for Melissa’s poisoning. He wanted me to tell Dan that.”

“What makes you think he wasn’t lying?” The prince mumbles out, still gazing in front of him.

There’s silence for a moment or two behind him but then he hears someone approaching.

“You know I have a knack for that,” Sebastian says, closer now. “Even though my visions are not as often or reliable these days, my bullshit meter works fine.” Dan’s sure his friend is trying for a smile right now but the prince doesn’t turn around to make sure.

Sebastian fidgets behind him, shuffling on the bed. “Uh,” he mumbles eloquently and pauses. “Phil – he, um,” Sebastian huffs in annoyance. “Listen, man, he’s so far gone for you. I went to talk to him about your whole affair thing –”

“You what?!” Dan whips around, glaring daggers at Sebastian, making him flinch away as suddenly all the flames in the room roar.

“I thought I was doing you a favour!” Bass defends himself. “You’ve been distracted lately and it’s all his fault. We need you to be focused on Madeleine. But the way he talked about you,” Bass bites his lip, lowering his gaze to the bedspread. “He’s in love with you. And by the way you’re reacting to this situation and how long you’ve kept this up makes me think you’re kinda gone on him too.”

It’s Dan’s turn to turn his eyes downwards. He swallows hard but doesn’t deny anything. “Yeah, well,” he mumbles. “It’s not gonna work out,” the prince grits out and turns away again.

“It could,” Elora of all people says and that makes Dan turn to stare at her. The princess looks awkward and uncomfortable as all the people in Dan’s room but she meets his eyes. “I’ve never seen you care so much about another person. All you’ve done to maintain this relationship with him,” she glances up and away, sighing. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but if he makes you happy, you should go for him.”

Dan raises his eyebrows at her, his mouth opening slightly in disbelief at his sister’s words.

“If you –,” she says and then quickly corrects herself, “ _when_ you find a way to fix this mess Phil’s gotten himself into, you should consider the best way for you to be with him.”

Dan can only nod. He’s been an idiot. Of course, Phil would not deceive Dan like that, wouldn’t just entice Dan to get back at his father. Dan’s been a fool for letting Alessandra’s words mess with his head.

Phil’s in love with him. Even Bass says it’s true and Dan’s never had any reason to doubt Bass’s assessment of people. Dan’s filled with hope and he knows it never ends well for him when he starts hoping for better things but he can’t stop it. He will find a way to get Phil out of this mess and they will be together. Dan’s determined to make it true.

_~ Now ~_

It’s an hour to midnight and nearly the whole castle is asleep. Prince Daniel isn’t. And not just because he’s plagued with nightmares every time he closes his eyes. No. This time he has too much on his mind and too much to do before he runs out of time.

Dan’s got a bag in his hands that he’s stuffing with clothes. The prince has never packed for himself, let alone another person, so he doesn’t really know what to pick but they’ll have to make do with the clothes he packs. It’s not a task requiring much attention so Dan’s mind wanders. And he’d much rather it didn’t.

Thoughts about how even more disappointed his father will be with his oldest son don’t leave Dan alone. The king already is angry about the whole ordeal of Dan being subtly accused of sleeping around with Phil. And he was livid when he found out that Phil was arrested for attempted murder of the queen, dragging Dan with himself; at least that what Dan was told, the prince did not want to be in the same room when those news reached his father.

Dan absolutely loathes leaving like this, not having settled it with his father. But he hopes to see him one day, maybe when Dan and Phil are no longer the top gossip. That’s extremely unlikely, Dan knows, but he has to hope for something or he won’t be able to complete his plan and he _has_ to.

The prince also has mixed feelings about leaving Madeleine to fend for herself. They had a deal and he would’ve absolutely respected it had Phil not gotten in trouble. As it is now, Dan has to choose one over the other. It’s not a choice he made lightly and one he made with a heavy heart because no matter what Madeleine did nothing wrong and deserves better than Dan running away and breaking their deal.

Dan pauses in the packing and runs a hand down his face, sitting heavily on the bed. He still could call all of this off. He still could stay and not disrespect Madeleine. He still could stay and not bring shame and disgrace onto his family. He still could stay and be miserable for the rest of his life, knowing he did nothing when the only person he fell in love with was wrongfully accused and sentenced to die.

The flames on the candles flicker, casting weird shadows on the chamber walls, as they respond to the tumult of emotion in the fire mage’s heart.

“What am I thinking?” Dan mumbles to himself, eyes wide as he stares at his feet. “This is ridiculous. I can’t do this.” He rubs at his eyes and falls back onto the bed.

Blinking at the black ceiling, Dan remembers the events of this morning.

_~ 13 hours ago ~_

The prince is standing on the balcony, leaning on the rails on his forearms and watching soldiers patrol around the castle. There are only three hours of light today and damn it he’s going to enjoy them all. He tilts his face in the sun’s direction and tries to soak up as much of it as possible.

“Dan,” Sebastian’s voice calls from behind him.

Dan sighs, hanging his head for a second, and turns around. “Yes, Bass?” He lifts an eyebrow.

“King Gordon is making an announcement about Phil’s sentence,” Sebastian tells him, casting his eyes down.

“What?” That’s the only word Dan manages to choke out.

They couldn’t have sentenced him this quickly. Phil was arrested only last night. They couldn’t have. Dan should’ve had more time to fix this. How is he going to fix this now?

The prince manages to shut his open mouth and collects his thoughts.

Right. Exile could be the worst case scenario for Phil. He would be thrown out of his home and country but Dan could help him with that. Dan could give him coin, a place to stay, anything really with the contacts Dan has.

Life imprisonment would be awful as well, as much for Phil as for Dan. It would mean that Dan couldn’t possibly visit Phil and would never see him again, and Phil would have to live under any conditions that Melissa deems passable, which would not be much. But Dan’s pretty sure he could expand his contacts and help Phil even in the castle dungeons.

Of course, letting Phil off the hook completely would make Dan’s, and obviously Phil’s, day, though Dan doesn’t count on it. Especially not since Melissa and her daughters are whispering in the Bourbon king’s ear. Those fucking harpies.

“Dan,” Bass interrupts him again. “Are you coming?”

The prince only nods his head and follows his friend out the chamber and down the castle corridors. Dan’s not done much talking since last night. He has too much to think about. And he knows it unsettles his friend and his siblings but Dan doesn’t know a better way to deal with this completely fucked up situation.

The throne room is filled with people. Every noble man, woman and servant clearly wants to find out what will happen to the king’s bastard first hand. Reporters are also here. Just the sight of them makes Dan want to set something on fire. But he only bites the inside of his cheek and clenches his hands into fists, willing his sigils not to flare up.

“Today I stand before you saddened and riddled with guilt,” Gordon begins his speech, standing in front of the crowd.

Dan leans back on a pillar, crossing his arms and glaring at the reporters who scribble every word hastily onto their pads of paper. How Dan loathes them; there aren’t words for it.

“I always thought I gave the best for my son,” the Bourbon king continues. “I thought I raised him right, not treating him any worse than my trueborn daughters.” He pauses, looking above the crowd for a few moments.

With a sigh, the king moves on. “By the decree of The Royal Council and myself, King Gordon Bourbon, Philip Lester has been found guilty on the charges of attempted murder of a royal.” Gordon’s voice wavers over the last part and his hands are trembling slightly. Dan can only imagine how difficult this is for him and what kind of pressure he’s under if he can’t save his own son from this.

Dan’s eyes move behind the king, where Melissa sits on one of the thrones with her daughters all around her. The queen is smiling serenely, Cornelia’s red-lipped smirk is more predatory, and Alessandra looks as innocent and sweet as the first day Dan met her. Only Madeleine is showing signs of remorse towards the farce that is happening.

“With a heavy heart I announce that for his heinous crime he is sentenced to die,” Gordon says and Dan’s gaze is on him in nanoseconds. “The execution will happen tomorrow morning.”

The prince’s heart stutters and starts beating too harshly against his ribs. Air doesn’t reach his lungs and his vision is getting fuzzy. Suddenly, there’s a bitter sting on his cheek and he refocuses.

Sebastian is standing in front of him, a hand on Dan’s shoulder, another on his stinging cheek. “Breathe,” Bass commands. The hand from the cheek slides to Dan’s chest, making sure Dan’s taking in gulps of air.

Dan’s shaking his head before he’s aware of it. “No,” he says just like last night. and like last night, it doesn’t change anything.

The crowd erupts around them. Reporters are shouting questions, nobles are expressing their disgusting opinions, soldiers are ordering people to calm down and stay back.

“I will not be answering any questions,” Gordon’s voice booms through the ruckus of the swarm of people, and he and his family are led out of the throne room.

“This can’t be happening,” Dan whispers, staring intently at Bass, willing his friend to deny all that Dan’s just heard.

“I’m so sorry,” Sebastian murmurs and hugs Dan to himself.

_~ Now ~_

Dan’s gliding his fingers over his tattoos, waking one sigil and quietening another. He wonders if Phil knows about his sentence yet or will they wait until morning to tell him. Knowing Melissa, she probably delivered the news herself, wanting Phil to stew in it the whole night. By the Five, Dan detests that woman.

The prince rubs a hand down his face, sighing. Of course, he can’t just leave Phil at her mercy. Dan loathes that he even has to make this kind of choice – his family, his throne, everyone and everything he holds dear or Phil.

A month ago it would have been a no brainer. He would’ve chosen the life he knows over some random mage. But that’s the problem. During Dan’s stay here, Phil managed to weasel his way into Dan’s heart and take up so much space that Dan feels hollowed out when Phil’s not here beside him. It infuriates and excites Dan all at the same time that now he’s got someone he actually cares so deeply about, someone he’s actually fallen in love with; he never thought he’d get this kind of luxury, especially considering that he’s royalty.

So clearly the only choice here is to fight for it tooth and nail. And Dan will be damned to the darkest circle of the Underworld if he doesn’t do as much.

His resolution back on track, the prince gets up and continues throwing stuff into the bag. While doing so, he runs over the plan they came up with in his mind, making sure he’s thought of all the possible things that could go wrong and solutions for them. He’d be loath to have missed some minor detail and screw this up for all people involved.

_~ 10 hours ago ~_

“This is ridiculous!” Dan shouts, pacing the length of his chamber and tugging on his hair roughly. “There must be something I can do!” He’s huffing in anger and isn’t even trying to control his flaring sigils.

Elora and Mathias are watching him from his bed, both wearing similar expressions of pity and worry. That’s the last thing Dan needs right now. He needs them to think of some way, _any_ way, that would help Phil out of getting his head chopped off.

“There isn’t, Dan,” Elora says softly. And it’s a true testament to how worried she is about her brother if she’s resolved to talking to him like to some spooked animal that could go berserk any moment. Though, Dan certainly feels like he could go off his hinges.

“Nonsense!” Dan shouts again. He rounds on his siblings and stares at them with hard eyes. “I am not leaving him there. He is _not_ dying tomorrow. I don’t care what I have to do but I won’t let him be slaughtered on Melissa’s whim.”

Elora and Mathias share a glance before the younger prince speaks up. “You need to calm down and think about this, Dan.”

Those words only make Dan clench his jaw and huff in barely controlled rage. Mathias lifts up his hands, trying to placate his brother.

“I’m not saying you should stop searching for a way to help Phil but being overemotional about this is not helping him any,” he offers an explanation. “Look. Just calm down and then we can go over some options of what to do.”

The fire mage lets his rage flare the candle flames up to the ceiling before taking a deep breath and closing his eyes. Thanks to years of practice, Dan manages to tramp down the overwhelming feelings of fear, helplessness and anger. Upon opening his eyes, the prince has stuffed it all to the back of his mind and focuses on the task at hand.

“Alright,” Dan says. “What options do we have?”

“We could go to Gordon and plead him to reconsider,” Elora suggests tentatively but Dan only scoffs at that; like they would get so lucky.

“Diplomacy won’t work here, sis,” the prince comments, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring out the dark window. It’s only an hour past midday but the sun’s already setting, leaving behind a trail of stars dotted on the inky black sky looked after by the barely there sliver of moon. Dan hates that too.

“What if we bribe the guards and find someone to smuggle Phil out of here?” Mathias proposes, a smile tugging on his lips.

“We don’t have the time for that,” Dan sighs, wiping off Mat’s grin at once. It would be a good idea but only if they could flesh out a plan, make sure they cover all their bases. “Plus there are like four people I trust in this castle and one of them is the one we’re trying to rescue.”

Elora lights up instantly. “So it’ll be a small scale operation,” the princess says filled with enthusiasm for some reason. “Mat, Bass and me will take care of the guards and you’ll get Phil out of the castle.”

“Where to, Lor? Besides, I don’t know anything about the woods, we’d get lost instantly,” Dan protests. He doesn’t even want to think about the fact that only a couple nights ago he was stumbling through the same woods all bloodied and ended up on Phil’s doorstep.

“Phil knows the woods,” Elora offers. “I’m sure he could navigate them with your fire bending lighting the way.”

The prince swallows down a lump of fear. He could do this for Phil, couldn’t he? He doesn’t remember much from that awful night, just some flashes of the black sky, reaching hands, hissing, cold. But he could push it down and get through it for Phil. At least, Dan hopes he could.

“Doesn’t answer the question of where we could go,” the prince reminds his sister.

“To Phil’s mother, of course,” she rolls her eyes as if thinking Dan’s completely daft. “She lives outside castle grounds and it’ll be tough to get there through all the snow but she’ll know where to send Phil after that.”

“They’ll look for them there first,” Mathias beats Dan to voicing the obvious argument.

“Not if we make it seem like they went to the nearest port,” Elora counters. She turns on Dan. “We send off two of our fastest messengers on horses, make sure a guard sees two hooded figures riding like mad out of the castle. While the guards are giving them chase, you and Phil sneak out and ride to Celeste’s. Besides, Phil could easily cover your tracks using his bending so no one will be able to follow you.”

“That’s not a half bad idea,” Mathias offers to Dan, lifting his eyebrows.

Elora punches him on the shoulder, frowning. “That’s a great idea, dumbass,” she huffs. Then smirks at her oldest brother. “What do you think? Would you be willing to go for this?”

_~ Now ~_

As Dan’s about to freak out about all the things that could go wrong that they haven’t thought of, there’s a soft knock on his chamber door. The prince glances at the clock; it’s not even a quarter past eleven and Sebastian’s supposed to be here at half past. The knock comes again, more insistent this time, making Dan frown. But he goes to the door nonetheless.

“Madeleine?” He asks surprised when he opens the door.

The princess gives him a tight lipped smile. “Can I come in?” She asks, glancing around the corridor like she’s afraid someone will see her here.

“I guess,” Dan mumbles and lets her in.

Madeleine doesn’t comment on the state Dan’s chamber is in: clothes strewn all around, two bags on the bed that are clearly being packed. She turns to him as Dan closes the door.

“Alessandra stole the poison from Phil’s room,” Madeleine says without preamble, leaving Dan gaping at her. “She and my mother thought of implicating Phil in this way after what they heard at that press lunch.” The princess casts her eyes down, her lips a tight line.

“Cornelia didn’t know about it,” she continues. “Apparently, she was too busy thanking that asshole reporter who questioned you about Phil. She was the one to give him the information in the first place.”

“How,” Dan chokes on the word and clears his throat. “How do you know about all this?” Apprehension churns his stomach in an unpleasant way. Has he trusted the wrong person again?

“Found out just now,” Madeleine answers. The huff of laughter she lets out is not one of amusement. “My mother and sisters told me like a half hour ago. They thought I’d be glad that they made it so easy for me to marry you, removing Phil from the equation.” She shakes her head, chewing on her bottom lip. “I’m so sorry, Dan,” Madeleine whispers, glancing up at him, tears welling in her eyes.

“Don’t be,” Dan tells her instantly, not even hesitating to wrap her in a hug. Surprisingly, he’s become rather fond of Madeleine; he’ll truly miss her. “You didn’t know about their scheming. No one would think their family could be so cruel.”

The princess sniffles, hugging him tighter. “I wish there was something I could do to stop what will happen tomorrow.”

Dan wants to tell her not to worry, that he and his siblings have it all figured out, but he doesn’t. The prince considers Madeleine a friend and he’s truly grateful that she told him about her family’s involvement in this, however, he doesn’t want to fuck up Phil’s rescue. So instead, he exhales shakily, mutters, “Yeah, me too,” and wonders if this is the last time he’ll see her.

“I should go,” Madeleine says, drawing back. “Don’t want to interrupt you.”

“You’re not –,” Dan starts protesting, rolling his eyes, but Madeleine gives him an unimpressed look, glancing at the two bags on the bed and then back at Dan as if saying ‘how stupid do you think I am?’

“I’ll leave you to it,” she says, lips tugging up in a sad sort of smile. “Good luck,” Madeleine whispers against his cheek before kissing him softly and leaving the room.

Dan’s just left standing there for a moment, completely awestruck at Madeleine’s understanding and kindness. When he met her, he read her absolutely wrong. It’s a pity he didn’t get to spend more time with her; he’s sure they could’ve become the best of friends.

With a sigh, Dan runs a hand through his hair and gets back to the simple task that he should’ve probably finished already if only he weren’t distracted. It’s ridiculous he’s spent so much time just _packing_. How is he ever going to get Phil out of dodge if he can’t even _pack_?

But he’s getting distracted again so Dan ignores the self-deprecating thoughts and all the worst case scenarios that his mind comes up with and instead focuses on the good things. Like how happy Phil will be to see him tonight. How exhilarating it will be to start a new life, and with someone he’s so irrevocably in love with. How finally Dan has a shot at happiness on his own terms and no longer will have to pretend to be happy because that’s what’s expected of him as an heir to the throne.

When Bass comes to collect him, after scouring the whole castle and making sure all the routes they’ll be taking are safe, the prince is actually smiling down at the bags as he zips them up. The clairvoyant only lifts an eyebrow at his friend’s obvious good mood considering the circumstances. But Bass can’t help his own responding smile at finally seeing Dan genuinely content.

They make their way to the dungeon through a sleeping castle, being extra careful not to be seen. Elora meets them at the top of the stairs, a smug grin on her lips.

“Enjoying yourself?” Dan asks, amused.

Elora rolls her eyes. “I am a Howell, you know. Finding amusement in illicit activities is in my blood.”

Dan snorts a laugh. Damn it, he’s going to miss her so much. He nearly talks himself out of leaving with Phil for good again but just reminds himself that both his siblings and his best friend supported this decision of his when he got the guts to tell them only a couple hours before their operation started. And he’s leaving the kingdom in good hands. Mat’s the next in line after Dan but Dan supposes his brother will let Elora take over. That would be the best thing to ever happen to their kingdom; Elora’s a born ruler, unlike Dan or Mathias.

“Let’s get moving,” Bass mumbles behind Dan and that’s all they need to be reminded of the seriousness of the situation.

The journey through the dungeon is quick and quiet. Elora leads the way as she was the one to gather information on where Phil’s being held and which guards are stationed by his cell. She and Mathias also took care of said guards, though Dan didn’t ask them how and isn’t about to ask them now.

Without interruption, they round to the last cell block where Mathias meets them, handing a bundle of keys to Dan. He’s got a cage in his other hand and Dan leans down to see Kitsu slumped on the floor of the cage. Clearly, being separated from its master doesn’t do a familiar much good; but it’s common practice with mage prisoners as it weakens their magic.

“Which cell?” Dan asks, straightening and gripping the keys tighter in his palm.

“Last one on the right,” Mathias informs him.

Dan and his brother trade the bag Dan’s been carrying (Bass took the second one) for the familiar’s cage. The prince can’t do much more than nod at his siblings and his best friend, too overwhelmed with emotion to speak at the moment. He receives three warm smiles in return before hurrying down the hall, not wishing to make Phil suffer any longer.

Kitsu gets more vocal the closer to Phil they get and Dan has to shush the soul animal. To Dan’s surprise and utmost confusion, the fox listens to him.

Dan’s fingers are shaking as he tries to unlock the heavy door of the cell but somehow he manages the menial task and is stepping into the dark in no time. He uses his magic to light up the torch that’s hung on the wall and he finally sees Phil.

They haven’t managed to do much damage to him in one day but Dan still feels anger flaring hot and insistent in his gut at seeing the bruises on Phil’s face. The water mage is shackled to the floor by his hands, the runes on the iron cuffs give off a light glow, taming Phil’s magic. He looks drained and tired, eyes blinking heavily at Dan.

The prince puts the cage on the floor before rushing to Phil’s side and cupping his cheeks with both hands, careful of the bruises. Phil’s brows knit in confusion, eyes slow on focusing on Dan.

“Dan?” He wonders, obviously not quite here. Dan’s heard of stories of what these kind of cuffs can do to a mage but he didn’t expect such a drastic effect.

“Yeah, it’s me, babe,” Dan smiles, thumbs caressing Phil’s cheekbones. “I’m gonna get you out of these cuffs, okay?”

Phil’s still only staring at him all bewildered so Dan sets to do what he promised. He retracts his hands, not missing the way Phil pouts at the loss, and searches for the keys he threw somewhere on the ground in his haste to reach Phil. After finding the bundle and the corresponding key, Dan unlocks the shackles and is happy to hear Phil’s sigh of relief.

The water mage’s tattoos flare up after being tamped down for so long and Phil leans his head on the wall behind him, shutting his eyes and running his fingers over the nearest sigils on his skin.

“Better?” Dan asks.

Phil’s still slow in his movements but he looks at Dan and a grin spreads across his bruised face. “Yeah, thanks,” he whispers. Then the smile drops from his face. “Kitsu?” Phil barely manages to say it out loud, probably fearing the worst – that they already took care of the soul animal.

“She’s fine,” Dan assures him. “Kind of lethargic like you ‘cause you’ve been separated, I guess. Want me to let her out of the cage now or..?” Dan trails off. He’s not sure how much more difficult a barely there fox would make their escape if she’s not in a cage but he’s not about to forbid Phil from cradling his spirit animal.

Phil nods as enthusiastically as he can in his drained state and so Dan takes the keys and hurries to the cage. He’s getting more and more aware of how much time has already passed and he knows that the faster they get out of here the better.

Once Dan opens the cage door, Kitsu whines but doesn’t make a move, too exhausted.

“Um,” Dan glances back at Phil who only nods again and Dan’s suddenly nervous. It’s not like touching a mage’s soul animal is _that_ big of a deal but Dan’s still iffy to actually be cradling the fox, keeping her close to himself. He does it anyway, of course; anything for Phil.

Kitsu, on her part, not even so much as squirms in Dan’s arms and if that’s not acceptance than Dan doesn’t know what is. He places the fox in Phil’s lap and sits back on his haunches to watch the mage stroking the soul animal that nuzzles him in return. Only after a couple minutes of reacquainting themselves, they both look a lot more alert and Dan can practically feel the magic swirling in the air.

“Hate to break this but we don’t have much time,” Dan says, hand coming to rest on Phil’s shoulder.

“Yeah, of course,” Phil nods. He stands with Dan’s help, Kitsu still in his arms. “How did you manage to get to me?” He asks Dan as they’re wobbling out of the cell.

“Had some help,” the prince grins at him. Then he casts his eyes to the dingy floor. “Do you –,” he cuts himself off but the question still sits heavy on his tongue so he braces himself and proceeds. “Have they told you about tomorrow?”

Phil swallows hard, jaw clenching the tiniest bit. “Yeah, Melissa visited me.” That’s all he says and Dan doesn’t press further to ask what kind of lies the queen spun for him. Probably, something along the lines of how Phil’s father was glad to condemn him, how no one cares to save him. And all because she wanted to see him squirm, wanted to inflict as much emotional pain as physical. By the Five, Dan has never hated anyone as he hates Melissa in this moment.

“She’s the one that set you up,” Dan informs him. “Madeleine told me that tonight. Melissa and Alessandra planned the whole thing.”

Phil scoffs. “Yeah, figured as much,” he says. “She always hated me.”

Soon they reach the spot where Elora, Mathias and Sebastian are waiting.

“You took your time,” Elora remarks.

Dan only rolls his eyes at her. “Well, then what are we still standing here for?” He asks and they get a move on.

The five of them move as quickly and silently as possible through the castle. They stop in one of the branching corridors since Elora and Mathias have to separate from the group to initiate the ruse. Dan leaves Phil leaning on a wall so he could say goodbye to his siblings.

The prince hugs his sister first, squeezing her tight. “Take care of them, Lor, the Five know they’ll need that,” he whispers in her ear, smiling sadly.

Elora nods a couple times, her dark curls tickling Dan’s cheek. “And you take care of yourself. And write to us if you can.”

“Sure thing,” he promises then kisses her cheek and turns to his brother. Mat hugs him tight too.

“Father’s gonna be murderous when he finds out,” Mathias huffs, pulling back. Dan can see his eyes watering with tears and feels his own doing the same.

“Well, good luck dealing with that,” Dan manages a choked off laugh. “Talking about our father,” he mutters and searches through one of his bags, producing a sealed letter that he rewrote at least five times. “Give this to him when you tell him,” he asks Mathias.

His brother nods, taking the piece of parchment, and then suddenly envelops Dan in another hug. Elora joins them in a second and Dan lets a couple tears fall, mumbling out ‘I’ll miss you’ and ‘I love you’ and getting the same words back as a response. They all know this can’t last long, so the Howell siblings reluctantly release each other and, after saying goodbye with sad smiles, Elora and Mathias disappear down the corridor.

“Shit,” Dan mumbles, wiping at his cheeks when he feels Bass’s hand on his shoulder. “That was harder than I thought.”

“Hopefully, it’ll be worth it,” Sebastian answers.

Dan can only nod before turning to Phil who’s dosing off, sitting against a wall with his fox in his lap. The prince doesn’t want to disturb him but has no other choice. Once Phil’s awake enough, they make their way to one of the entrances that the servants use and which isn’t under a watchful eye of any of the many guards.

There’s a horse waiting for them and Bass helps Dan to tie the bags to the saddle while Phil sits on the steps of the entrance, shivering from the cold. Of course, Dan’s an idiot who forgot that anyone else who’s not a fire mage requires actual warm layers to not freeze to death. He so didn’t see that being their biggest problem.

The prince is about to suggest he run upstairs and find Phil’s coat when Sebastian approaches the water mage and with a simple, “Here,” offers his coat to Phil.

“It’s not like I’m gonna be riding a horse through the woods on the coldest winter night,” Bass says at Dan’s raised eyebrow.

“Thank you,” Phil mutters, his teeth no longer chattering once he's buried under warm layers.

Sebastian simply inclines his head with a polite smile before turning his focus back on Dan. The prince’s lips tug into another sad smile and he doesn’t hesitate to pull his best friend into a hug.

“Thanks for everything, Bass,” Dan says sincerely. “You put up with more of my shit than anyone would have,” he smirks, stepping away but still keeping a hand on the clairvoyant’s shoulder.

“Glad I could help,” Sebastian responds. “I’m gonna miss you, man.”

The prince swallows hard, nodding, and hugs the clairvoyant again, trying to convey his emotions through physical contact because words are failing him. Sebastian’s more than a friend to Dan. They’ve been through a lot together and Bass was the one who kept Dan sane without even realising it after Dan’s mother died. Dan owes him way more than a crappy goodbye in a servants’ courtyard when getting ready to elope with a guy he met a month ago.

“I can see you overthinking, idiot,” Bass laughs, giving Dan’s cheek a light clap and cupping it. “He’s good for you. You’re gonna be great together and you’re finally gonna be happy. I couldn’t wish more for you.”

Dan’s smile, even though it’s watery, could probably light up the whole castle. “Shit,” the prince says, pushing Bass’s hand away. “You’re gonna make me cry again.”

Sebastian only laughs louder, stepping away from Dan. “See you around,” he says before turning and walking to the entrance. He stops next to Phil, who’s now standing and watching them curiously. “Take care of him, man. But don’t take his bullshit,” Bass sends a grin Dan’s way. “May the Five smile upon you. Or at least not fuck up your lives entirely.”

Dan snorts, very much doubting that would ever happen, but returns the old fashioned goodbye. Sebastian gets back inside, closing the door softly, and then it’s only Dan and Phil in the frigid night air.

“You’re coming with me?” Phil asks when the door’s closed. He’s got a surprised look on his beaten up face.

“Of course, I am,” Dan answers. “Who will rescue you from jail cells after you’ve been falsely accused if I don’t?”

Phil rolls his eyes but comes closer. “You’ve done enough, Dan. You don’t have to come with me. You’re gonna lose everything.”

Dan hums noncommittally, pulling Phil closer to himself by the lapels of the coat. “First of all, I want to go with you,” he says, reiterating his point by extremely gently kissing Phil’s bruised cheek. “And I’m gaining more than I’m losing, believe me,” he whispers against Phil’s lips before kissing them too.

Phil’s wince makes Dan want to pull away but the other mage ignores his own split lip, encircling the prince in his arms and kissing him with more vigour. Dan’s fingers find their way into Phil’s black hair and they press up as close as possible to each other. It’s completely ridiculous to be doing this now when they could so easily be discovered but Dan’s beyond caring. For the first time in his life, he’s too happy to consider the consequences rather than too apathetic. It feels exhilarating to be experiencing happiness again.

“So what’s the plan?” Phil asks when they manage to pull off of each other.

“Mat and Elora should be on their way to make a diversion for us,” Dan responds, running his fingertips down the uninjured side of Phil’s face. “When the whole garrison of the guards is distracted we slip into the woods and ride to your mother’s.” Phil opens his mouth to protest but Dan beats him to it. “We’ll be long gone before they figure out where we went in the first place.”

Phil just nods, closing his eyes and enjoying Dan’s ministrations. They get only a couple minutes of silence and calm before the whole castle flares up in alarm. Horns are being blown, commands are being shouted, people run everywhere and half the castle lights up.

“That’s our queue,” Dan says.

They get on the horse: Phil holding the reins with Kitsu in front of him and Dan behind his back. One of Dan’s arms goes around Phil’s waist and he outstretches the other, ready to call up a ball of flame onto his palm so they could see better when they’re in the actual woods. Phil keeps the horse to a slow pace while they’re too close to the castle that someone might hear or notice them in some other way.

Once they hit the treeline, the hooves of the horse beat harshly into the snow as Phil encourages it to go faster. Dan holds on tighter, his heartbeat thudding loudly and way too fast in his ears. There’s a feeling of dread settling in his stomach and Dan immediately produces a flame in his palm, keeping his eyes on the pulsing heat of it and drowning out everything else.

That is perhaps why the prince doesn’t notice the long-limbed creatures hiding in the woods, silently hissing at the flame in his hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only three more chapters to go but I can't promise I'll keep to the usual schedule of posting on Fridays because life...  
> But I will be finishing this for sure!!


	13. Winter Solstice

It’s exhausting to keep the magic pulsing through his veins, keeping the flame alive and burning, but the prince tries his damndest. The woods are dark even with the heaps of snow surrounding them; it doesn’t do much good as there’s no moon to reflect off of snow banks and make it brighter. Dan extremely despises being in the north during the Winter Solstice.

Time doesn’t quite exist in this exact moment. They could’ve been riding for a half hour or maybe a few hours, Dan can’t tell. The sound of his pulse in his ears, the beating of Phil’s heart against his palm, the horse’s hooves hitting the tightly packed snow, the fluttering flame in his palm – those are the only things Dan’s been aware of for the past however long. And the dread making itself comfortable in his belly, curling around his heart snugly and squeezing it with all its might, that’s another thing that’s been demanding Dan’s attention.

The cold creeps up on him unnoticed. It slithers under his skin and wraps around every cell and when Dan notices the tremors running through his body, it’s too late. His body temperature has dropped drastically, fingers going numb, tattoos flickering before giving out entirely, and then the flame dies out in Dan’s palm.

There’s a couple seconds of stillness where only their breathing, the panting of the horse and its hooves hitting the ground echo through the dark woods. Then a hiss and another and another resounds all around them. The horse suddenly makes a pitiful painful noise and Dan’s thrown off it.

He lands hard on his right side, pain flaring through his ribs and punching the air out of his lungs. With a loud groan Dan rolls onto his back, clutching his side; it hurts like a bitch. He takes a couple deep breaths and his eyes nearly roll back into his head because of the pain. Yep, definitely broken ribs.

“Fuck,” Dan swears into the black abyss above him.

No more than a few seconds have passed since he hit the ground and once again the hissing fills the air. Dan struggles to his knees but he can’t see more than shadows moving through more shadows and it’s beyond frustrating. The pain intensifies and Dan has to clench his teeth and take shallow breaths to not pass out.

“Phil,” he whisper calls, praying to the Five that he’s not pinned under the horse or something because that would be the icing on this fucked up cake of a night.

“Still alive,” comes the response somewhere to Dan’s right. Phil’s other words are drowned by the guttural growls of the monsters surrounding them and the sounds of teeth tearing flesh while the horse's whines ring loud and clear. Dan feels bile rising in his throat when the whining cuts out with a gurgling sound, probably the horse choking on its own blood, and Dan’s never thought he’d be grateful that he can’t see anything that’s not two feet in front of him.

But the monsters eat quickly and Dan can hear the growling approaching though the sound of the footsteps of the creatures themselves is non-existent. Blues and whites of Phil’s tattoos flare up next to Dan. It doesn’t light up much but at least now Dan sees what’s approaching them.

They’re tall and barely skin and bones. Their eyes are gaping holes, arms dragging through the snow, the claws leaving blood red trails. The creatures are clearly assessing them, most not finding Phil’s magic too frightening and instead focusing on Dan. Clearly the former prince fails to intimidate them and Dan gulps loudly when a screech announces that the humans are good to eat.

During that split second Dan thinks that he’s got no magic and that he’s useless, like always. The cold permeated his every atom and sucked up the heat of his magic and now he’s left defenceless against these beasts. The future he wanted for himself no longer matters. He’s facing a horde of cannibalistic monsters and this is where he dies.

The wall of ice in front of him surprises Dan as much as Phil’s appearance by his side. The water mage is gripping his arm, shouting something, but all Dan can focus on is the intense navy glow of all of Phil’s sigils and Kitsu’s eyes, shining the same navy blue.

They’re running before Dan knows it and his lungs and ribs protest deeply against that. He hears the ice wall shatter loudly and then the monsters are on their heels. Hissing rings in Dan’s ears and the only reason he forces himself to keep moving through the darkness is Phil’s fingers tightly clutching Dan’s wrist. Idly Dan thinks that it’ll probably bruise.

And then the creatures catch up to them because of course they do, and Dan plants face first into a snow bank. Claws are scratching at his ankle and slice against his back. Dan doesn’t know if he should scream because of the gut churning, vomit inducing pain his ribs and now also his shoulder provide or because of the clean, sharp, spotty vision supplying slicing of his back and legs.

In reality, he only manages to grunt as he kicks restless and turns on his back, hissing at the cooling effect of snow against open wounds. Kitsu, all glowy and shit, brushes against Dan's palm and Dan feels his magic surging, tattoos lighting up. The creature that tried to maul him and make Dan his midnight snack screeches loudly and rears back.

“Fucker,” Dan manages through clenched teeth as he stands.

Phil’s making better use of his magic. He buries the creatures under snow drifts, leaves ice daggers in their bony asses, smacks ice walls right in their sharp toothed faces. Dan would be overjoyed with that but he can see that Phil won’t last long. Even after being reunited with his soul animal and using the fox as a conduit for magic, Phil’s still not nearly rested enough for what he’s doing now and he’ll burn out soon. So Dan has to think of a plan to save both of their asses and fast.

Remembering how the creature reacted only because of Dan’s sigils flaring up and how all of them seemed more interested in finishing Dan off first, he goes with the first idea that comes into his pain focused brain. Dan lets his tattoos die out and just stands there, breathing through the pain.

“Phil!” He shouts, managing to capture the mage’s attention at once. “Stop,” Dan orders.

Phil’s brows knit in confusion but his momentary lapse is all the monsters need to refocus on Dan’s magic-less state. Dan sees Phil’s eyes growing large as the creatures rush to take a bite out of the fire mage but he only shouts, “Duck!”

The command is obeyed after a second and Dan lets all the magic flow freely through his body. He outstretches both of his arms to his sides, palms facing forward, and grunts when a burst of pain flares through his recently injured shoulder. Ignoring that, and all the other injuries, Dan produces flames that lick over the skin of his palms.

Only half a second has passed. The creatures are still going at him full speed. Dan inhales, spins in place, making a fire ring around himself. On the exhale, he pushes his palms outwards. The fire listens to him without protest and the ring blazes bright red and orange, doubling in size and shooting away from the mage, catching on fire everything in its wake.

“Shit,” Dan mutters to himself as creatures drop all around him, burning to a crisp and screaming bloody murder. He feels drained beyond measure. It’s been a while since simple firebending had him so out of breath and shaking with exhaustion. Of course, it could also be all the injuries he sustained because of those scrawny ass motherfuckers. By the Five, Dan would burn them all if he could and laugh while doing so.

He drops to his knees, clutching his side with his good arm, and taking small sharp breaths. He really thinks he’s going to pass out.

“Fucking fool,” Phil mumbles in front of Dan, and when did he get here?

Phil’s rough hands burn Dan’s cold cheeks and his chapped lips are scorching against Dan’s. It’s absolute bliss. Dan exhales shakily, trying for a smile. “Saved your ass again,” he whispers into Phil’s mouth. The water mage laughs loudly, the gorgeous sound reverberating through the quiet darkness that descended upon them.

But it doesn’t last long as hissing and growling can be heard in the distance.

“I don’t think I can perform one of those again anytime soon,” Dan says. “We should totally get out of here.”

“My mother’s cabin isn’t that far away,” Phil offers, helping Dan stand up. “Sorry, sorry,” he mutters when Dan inhales sharply as Phil’s arm wraps around him, agitating the cuts on Dan’s back. “Ow, fuck,” Phil winces himself when Dan grips his shoulder for support.

“We’re quite a pair,” Dan mumbles, fingers sticky with Phil’s blood, and tries to not dig his digits into the wound while attempting to still keep hold of Phil.

“Yeah, yeah,” Phil grumbles out. “Less talking, more moving.”

Kitsu walks in front of them. Her fur is emitting a soft white glow, lighting the path. Dan can see the toll the upkeep of even such simple magic is having on both Phil and his soul animal. But they can’t traipse in the dark so he keeps his mouth shut on the matter. Especially since he’s magically impotent at the moment after pulling that ring trick.

Dan frowns slightly. He so shouldn’t have thought of it in those terms. Ugh, his brain is no longer filtering.

Time eludes Dan once again and he concentrates on just putting one foot in front of another. The uncontrollable muscle shivers don’t help to ease the ache of his wounds but he’s too far gone to even make a sound at the waves of pain. Dan thinks Phil’s not fairing any better so it’s a massive relief when there’s finally a square light of a window in the distance.

But of course reaching it is not that easy. They’re a couple hundred meters away from the inviting warmth and most importantly light of the cabin when shouting can be heard behind them. The hissing and growling that accompanies the woman’s voice is already familiar and Dan doesn’t have to be told twice to hurry the fuck up.

He and Phil run as fast as they can in the states they’re in. It’s not long before Dan’s foot catches and he crashes into the ground. He’s quick to flip over and scoot back on his hands when the growling sounds right above him. But the beast only hisses and screeches, pacing an invisible line.

Dan’s breathing hard, his heart ready to give out after the last few hours of fun.

“You okay there?” A woman’s voice asks and Dan glances to his left.

She’s got the same black locks as Phil, the same sharp cheekbones, the same kindness readily evident on her face. Celeste ignores the monsters pacing the magical perimeter that she clearly set up and extends Dan a hand.

“Thanks,” Dan says, trying not to grimace too much when pain makes itself known again but fails miserably by the look on Celeste’s face.

“You boys don’t look so good,” she says, glancing behind Dan where he can hear Phil grunting.

“Thank you, mother,” Phil mutters. “That’s very kind of you.”

Dan nearly snorts at the retort but keeps it for himself. Celeste only rolls her eyes.

“Come on,” she says. “You need to warm up and heal. And you’ve got a lot to explain,” she stabs a finger in Phil’s direction before turning around and walking to her cabin.

Dan and Phil hobble after her in their less than satisfactory state. The inside of the cabin is warm and Dan parks himself right in front of the fire, shivering uncontrollably. Phil’s right beside him, a comforting presence pressing up to him from shoulder to hip.

Glancing around, Dan sees that the cabin is pretty small. Everything fits into the same space. It smells strongly of herbs and spices but that’s to be expected as bundles of them hang from ceiling beams or are hooked on some nails in the walls. There’s shelves upon shelves of jars and vials, boxes and bottles of all sorts of substances, like in Phil’s room. Also like in Phil’s room, Celeste’s cabin has the warm homey feeling about it and Dan feels safe here. It’s nice, to say the least. And Dan finally lets himself relax.

Of course, the remnants of adrenalin wear off quickly and Dan’s hit full force by the pain of his injuries. That’s not so nice. He tries to breathe through it, leaning heavily on Phil, and concentrates on Celeste puttering about and on Phil’s hand splayed over Dan’s thigh, thumb drawing soothing circles.

“Drink that,” Celeste says, holding a mug under Dan’s nose. When Dan eyes it wearily, she huffs. “It’ll help with the pain,” she explains.

Dan nods his thanks and takes the mug, downing it all in one go. It tastes disgustingly sweet and a shiver runs down his spine which serves only to agitate his wounds.

Celeste gives the same concoction to Phil before bringing over a bowl of water and some jars to treat the cuts on Dan’s back. Dan throws his shredded shirt without much remorse and flinches when wet cloth connects with his wounds. He knows the cleaning is necessary but the herbs Celeste gave him haven’t kicked in yet so he only lowers his head and grits his teeth.

Phil’s busy beside him. Celeste provided him with a bowl of his own but that one was spiced with something else. Some water mages have instant healing abilities which work only on themselves and only when using the right ingredients. So Dan supposes that’s what Phil’s doing as the water mage’s tattoos are glowing faintly. But Phil’s used up too much of his magic as it is and Dan can’t help throwing worried looks his way.

“I’ll be fine,” Phil murmurs after noticing Dan’s flickering gaze. “I’m not healing anything fully.”

Dan nods his understanding and gets back to staring at his own fingers gripping tightly onto his knees while Celeste treats his wounds.

“Why aren’t you in the castle?” Celeste asks softly after some time.

Phil’s already done what he wanted to and now he’s just resting in front of the fire, Kitsu asleep in his lap. Dan’s back is all wrapped up, as is his ankle, he’s hopped up on those herbs and doesn’t even feel Celeste’s prodding fingers against his broken ribs.

He also doesn’t listen to Phil explaining things. It’s more fascinating for Dan to listen to the timbre of his voice and watch his lips forming the words. At one point, he reaches for those same lips, wanting to trace them with his fingertips. Phil catches his wrist easily, lacing their fingers and putting their hands on his lap. Dan pouts.

Phil glances at his mother. “I think you gave him a bit much,” he says with a grin.

Dan can’t take his eyes off of Phil’s gorgeous features being licked by the golden hues of the fire so he doesn’t see Celeste’s reaction. But he hears her say, “I think the boy deserves it after the night he’s had.”

“I really wanna kiss you,” Dan blurts out, still staring only at Phil.

Phil raises his eyebrow at Dan, one corner of his lips curling up. “Maybe when you’re not high and we’re not in front of my mother.”

“Mmm,” Dan hums, leaning in closer to Phil, nuzzling at his shoulder. “And I really wanna fuck you right now,” he murmurs.

Celeste laughs out loud and Phil chokes on air.

Dan smiles to himself, totally blissed out and unaware. “But we can wait until I’m not high,” he promises Phil, placing a gentle kiss on his neck and resting his head on Phil’s shoulder.

Dan watches the flames dancing in the fireplace, humming a lullaby under his breath. It’s the last thing he remembers.

When Dan wakes up, it’s still dark outside and the only light sources are the candles and the fireplace. He’s a bit disoriented because apparently he’s been moved to the only bed available so the vantage point is all wrong. There’s also a weight on his chest and he turns his head to glance down.

Kitsu is curled up on him, her fur is glowing softly. Dan’s stunned for a few seconds. He thought the soul animal hated his guts so he doesn’t know how to react to this.

“She’s healing you,” Phil’s voice sounds next to Dan and the brunet lifts his head.

Phil’s looking better than last night. Was it last night? Dan has no idea how long he’s been asleep and the ever present darkness doesn’t help to discern time. But yeah, Phil’s face is healed and he’s not holding himself like he’s in pain and Dan counts that as a victory.

“Mother’s tincture managed to heal your open wounds,” Phil explains. “The internal ones take longer so Kitsu’s helping you out.”

“Why?” Dan asks, confused.

Phil shrugs a shoulder, smiling softly and trailing his fingers down the side of the fox. “I guess, she’s warmed up to you.”

Dan snorts. “And to think it only took rescuing your ass out of prison and saving said ass from being eaten alive.”

“Yeah, she’s got low standards like that,” Phil grins, completely unrepentant on his soul animal’s behalf.

Dan rolls his eyes but can’t stop the answering smile.

He gets up when Kitsu finally moves off of him, deeming the healing done. Dan stretches his sore muscles, glad that his ribs now only have bruising instead of breaks and aren’t hindering his breathing. He also tries waking his sigils, however they only flicker and Dan frowns at the lack of humming magic under his skin.

Phil comes back to him after rummaging through some chests. He gives Dan some clothes and points him in the direction of the bathroom where Dan finds a bowl of warm water, courtesy of the water mages in the house because plumbing here is non-existent. After getting himself presentable, and clad in blue of course, Dan joins Celeste and Phil to have breakfast. Well, at least it’s breakfast for Dan.

“What time is it?” Dan asks, looking around and finally finding a huge clock in the corner of the room. As Dan focuses on it, he can hear it ticking, the pendulum swinging hypnotically, and he wonders how he didn't wake up when it chimed every hour; Dan's sure it makes a lot of noise.

“A bit after three in the afternoon,” Celeste answers, unaware that Dan discovered the clock. She passes him a mug of freshly brewed tea. “It’s still Winter Solstice,” she adds. “You haven’t been asleep that long, don’t worry.”

Dan simply nods and sips at his tea. They’re silent as they eat what turns out to be a late lunch and Dan mentally prepares a list of questions to ask after they’re done.

Phil helps his mother to take care of the dishes and Dan belatedly realises that he didn’t even offer to help since as a prince he never had to. That little detail shocks him for a moment. To be honest, he didn’t even consider how he’ll have to navigate life not being a royal as he was too wrapped up in wanting to escape it. Dan didn’t stop to think how inept he is at simple mundane tasks. How long before Phil gets tired of looking after the former prince and having to teach him the most basic of things?

“Hey,” Phil whispers close to Dan and the prince looks up at him. Phil’s hand is warm on Dan’s shoulder and the water mage leans down a bit to be more level with the sitting brunet. “You okay?” There’s a crease between Phil’s eyebrows so Dan nods immediately to get rid of it.

“Just overthinking,” Dan admits.

Phil leans further down, stealing a soft kiss and then smiling. “Yeah, that’s your specialty,” he comments wryly.

Celeste comes back to the table with another pot of tea, and Phil sits back in his place, though scooting his chair closer to Dan’s and keeping a hand on the fire mage’s thigh. Dan’s surprised to find that the gesture is more comforting than arousing.

“So,” Celeste says. She’s cradling a mug in both her hands, elbows on the table, eyes seemingly piercing Dan’s very soul. “Phil tells me that you saved his life a couple of times.”

Dan feels himself flush for no reason and he glances down, shrugging.

“I thought you said he’s an arrogant selfish prick who’s only interested in getting you into his bed,” Celeste addresses Phil and Dan’s head shoots up immediately.

Now Phil’s the one blushing and squeezing Dan’s thigh. “Mother,” he admonishes gently but Celeste only sips her tea. “Yes, I did,” Phil admits, glancing at Dan. “But that was before we got to know each other better. You’ve changed since then. For the better,” he adds with a smile.

“Nice to know you liked me from the start,” Dan offers Phil a grin of his own.

They have a moment of staring deeply into each other’s eyes, Dan laces their fingers together.

“Thank you, Dan,” Celeste says sincerely and Dan turns to her. “I would have never thought Melissa would do such a thing. I knew she hated me but to frame Phil for murder,” she shakes her head and sighs. “I’m glad you were there to take care of my boy when I couldn’t.”

“Um,” Dan’s speechless for a second. Admittedly, he got Phil out for mostly selfish reasons so he doesn’t feel like thanks are in order. “My pleasure,” he says finally.

Celeste smiles, nodding her head slightly. “Now,” she says. “I think it’s time we discuss more important matters.”

“Yeah,” Phil agrees. “Like how we’re getting out of here when those things are all over the place?”

“And _what_ are those things exactly?” Dan adds.

Celeste shifts in her seat, glancing away through the dark window above the kitchen table. “They’re wendigos. Or rather a type of wendigo,” she starts slowly. Looking at Phil, she adds, “I didn’t know for sure until a couple of nights ago and I couldn’t contact you by then.”

Phil nods his understanding and his mother continues.

“They’ve been asleep for hundreds of years as far as the tale goes. They’re former water mages that got turned so they have a kind of magic about them. There should be hundreds of them buried in these woods and in the eastern mountains.” Her fingers curl tighter over the mug. “Someone woke them up. According to the legend, a powerful spell was cast over them by a coven of witches so that they’d sleep forever. Only a really powerful witch or wizard could’ve done this.”

“Why?” Dan asks at once.

“To ruin the kingdom,” Phil answers. His fingers dig into Dan’s thigh and his eyebrows are drawn together as he stares at the table. “They’ve been slowly circling the castle, gathering their forces. They’re going to storm it.”

Dan’s jaw falls open. “Shit,” he manages to mutter.

“That’s what I was afraid of,” Celeste sighs, rubbing a hand over her forehead. “They’ll be strongest tonight as it’s Winter Solstice. If they’re going to storm the castle, they’ll do so tonight.”

Phil jumps up suddenly; the chair scrapes loudly against the floor before tipping over and crashing with a thud. “We have to go back and help them,” he announces.

“How?” Dan asks. “We barely survived getting here. Those things are vicious.”

“So you’d rather we stay here and do nothing?” Phil demands, outrage obvious in his features and voice.

“Of course, not,” Dan rolls his eyes and crosses his arms. “But the castle is fortified, they're safe behind thick walls, and they have hundreds of soldiers. They can deal with this.”

Phil focuses on his mother. “Can they?”

Celeste bites her lip and shrugs. “I don’t know. Up until a few days ago I thought those wendigos were a legend. I have no idea what they’re capable of.”

“They dampened my magic,” Dan mutters, put out.

“Really?” Celeste turns to him, interested. “How? Just by proximity?”

“Mother, it’s not the time,” Phil chides. “We have to figure out how to help the people in the castle. They don’t even know what’s coming for them.”

“Yes, of course,” Celeste refocuses, fingers tapping against the mug.

“Do you have this legend?” Dan asks Phil’s mother who nods and gets up to get him the book.

Phil, who’s settled back in the chair, raises an eyebrow at Dan. The brunet shrugs a shoulder. “It might contain some stuff about how to get rid of them or something.”

Celeste places a tome on the table. Its cover is black with silver swirls adorning the front and back. Dan finds a bookmarked chapter and opens it. The creatures drawn in the pages are identical to the ones they encountered last night.

“They can only be killed by fire,” Celeste supplies, sitting back down.

“That’s probably why they were so focused on you,” Phil comments, directing it at Dan. But Dan’s already distracted reading the legend and trying to discern all the hidden meanings and maybe find something that Celeste might have overlooked.

They continue swapping reading the original book and some other sources, throwing random ideas around, however, nothing sticks. In one of the retellings of the legend Phil finds that only once the original caster of the reawakening spell is killed will the wendigos go back to hibernation. That is countered by Dan’s finding that they’ll all die after the Winter Solstice is over. But of course no one knows for sure as the reawakening hasn’t happened until now when everyone’s already forgotten about the existence of water mages turned wendigos.

By the time they’ve read through the few sources a dozen times, Dan wants to give up. He’s got no other ideas and his magic is still unstable so he’s more annoyed than he’d be in other circumstances. To distract himself, Dan sits in front of the fireplace; watching the flames always soothes him. Kitsu, surprisingly, curls up beside him and even allows Dan to pet her. Talk about character development.

However, having time to think about the fact that they’re getting back to the place from which they’ve just escaped – that only serves to agitate Dan and his anxiety to skyrocket. He did not abandon everyone and everything just to come back a day later with his tail between his legs. And Dan knows it’s not really like that, that they’d go back to help, but it feels like he failed anyway.

Besides, if they get back, it won’t end well for Phil. No one’s going to believe he was falsely accused because he ran away like any other guilty party would do. Melissa’s got Gordon wrapped around her finger so Phil would go back to the dungeon the moment the dust settled.

That is if there’s even dust to unsettle. Dan doubts that a fortified castle with hundreds of soldiers would need their help. Sure, those creatures are plenty scary but they don’t wield any elemental magic used for combat and they’re not organised enough to take over a freaking castle that’s guarded by perfectly trained military personnel.

Why can’t Phil just get that? Why can’t he just understand that Dan’s worried about his well-being, about their future? It’s obvious that Phil’s signing his death warrant by deciding to get back. And clearly Dan’s father won’t be happy with this stunt the former prince has pulled either. Dan’s sure he’ll be sent back home immediately or married off to Madeleine in a five minute ceremony and _then_ sent back home with a new wife.

It’s no longer the life Dan wants. Or even one he’s content to just accept. He’s started to make his own decisions and it’s more freeing and exhilarating than anything he’s ever experienced; Dan never wants to lose it again. And Phil’s just happy to throw their future away for the off-chance that the castle will need help. What can two mages do that a hundred of trained professionals can’t?

It’s ridiculous and only agitates Dan’s anxiety, morphing into anger and making him frown even harder when his sigils go haywire again. Can nothing go well for him? Are the Five so against him having at least a semi happy ending?

The former prince huffs an irritated sigh.

Phil lands beside him some time later. Dan can hear Celeste milling in the kitchen, probably making dinner.

“You do realise that if we get back,” Dan starts quietly, “and if everything turns out fine, you’ll most likely go back to the dungeon and I’ll be forced to return to my kingdom.”

“Dan,” Phil murmurs, matching Dan’s set volume. The one syllable is filled with desperation and resignation and it’s too much for Dan.

“I want a future with you, Phil,” Dan says, glancing at his lap. “Even if your father miraculously forgives you after we save their asses, we won’t have one.”

“If my father miraculously forgives me,” Phil’s hand finds Dan’s, “we could tell them about us like we planned.”

Dan snorts. He doesn’t hide the derision in his tone when he says, “Yeah, like we planned.” And Dan has no idea what comes over him but the building frustration finally bubbles over and chooses this moment to spill out.

“Did you know that I never actually planned to tell my family about us?” Dan lifts an eyebrow at Phil, withdrawing his hand from the water mage’s. “I made a deal with Madeleine to marry her and keep you as my side thing. She said she could even talk your father into letting you travel with us back to my kingdom.”

As Phil’s face flicks between emotions, Dan watches in fascination with this sick feeling of glee that he hurt Phil back even though Phil did not even realise he’d hurt Dan. Maybe Dan’s not changed as much as Phil thinks he did. Maybe Dan’s always going to be a self-sabotaging dick.

Phil’s jaw is locked. He sits rigid and tense, though his hands are trembling slightly and his sigils are flickering. “You _what_?” He grits out through clenched teeth.

Dan’s answer gets swallowed by the loud crash seemingly coming from all directions. The two mages are at once on their feet, looking at Celeste for explanation. She’s gone still and her face betrays no emotion.

“They broke the barrier,” she nearly whispers.

“Fuck,” is Dan’s answer to that revelation.

Then all of them are rushing out the door to see that yes, a horde of those modified wendigos are coming straight at them and from then on it’s all a blur of movement, pain and screams.

During his childhood, before his powers presented, Dan was taught basic fighting techniques in combat. He had a patient teacher who showed him time and time again how to effectively block and incapacitate his opponent. But that was well over twelve years ago and Dan’s learned to rely solely on his magic when fighting since then so it’s no surprise that he eats snow seconds after trying to take down a wendigo. In this moment he truly regrets not keeping up with the basic fighting training.

The creature’s claws slice through Dan’s flesh as if going through butter and Dan’s groan gets lost among all the other sounds filling the woods. But, luckily for Dan, adrenalin kicks in soon enough and the pain goes to the back burner of his mind. As he flips on his back, the former prince wonders if a person can die from adrenalin overdose because he’s had way too much of it the past couple of days.

The monster is toying with him, Dan notices that much. He wouldn’t be allowed to crawl back a couple feet in his state if the wendigo didn’t want to have some fun. The beast stalks after him slowly, jaw unhinging to show Dan all its sharp teeth nestled in a few rows. Yeah, Dan forgot how scary and disgusting those motherfuckers really are.

Suddenly, Dan’s fingers brush against something soft and warm. He glances away from the creature to see Kitsu all glowing and powered up next to Dan. The fox nudges his hand with her snout and Dan thinks it’s totally not the right time to be asking for petting or whatever but his palm connects with the familiar’s head and he feels a surge of power.

“Oh,” Dan breathes to himself.

She’s letting him charge from her. Dan does so without letting himself think much about how inappropriate this is as Kitsu isn’t _his_ familiar, about how this is more intimate than having sex with Phil; soul animals are called so for a reason. It doesn’t feel _wrong_ per say but certainly not a step he and Phil would be prepared to take if the circumstances were different.

Magic slowly awakens in Dan’s veins and he’s instantly warmed up. The sigils start glowing, painting Dan’s exposed skin in red and orange. Dan lifts his eyes to the wendigo that’s now hissing at him and is clearly aware of Dan’s magic returning. The fire mage doesn’t waste a second in setting the beast on fire with a snap of his fingers.

Dan leaps to his feet with a burning corpse right next to him. His magic isn’t as strong as it is any given day but it’s better than having it dampened and closed off from him.

Fighting while having at least some of his magic back is extremely relieving. Dan throws fireballs in every direction that he can see a wendigo approaching, of course, avoiding Phil and Celeste. A couple trees go up in flames too but it’s not due to Dan’s aim, the flailing and screeching beasts are responsible for that. But at least the flaming trees help the fire mage in combat. He wields the flames that are already available to him with ease and it doesn’t exert as much magic from him as producing his own flame would.

The three of them work in a pretty good team. Soon they get a system going. Celeste or Phil stun or incapacitate a wendigo using their magic and Dan torches the sucker on fire. They twirl around each other, waving their hands in practiced bending moves, as if they’ve done this dozens of times.

However, no matter how good they’re fairing in killing the monsters, more and more come and the mages get more and more exhausted by the hour. Dan can feel his magic fading slowly but surely and he has no idea how much longer he’ll be able to keep this up. He hopes that the story where the wendigos drop dead as soon as the Solstice is done is true. There’s not that much time left until twelve o’clock (well, he thinks there’s not) and if those monsters disintegrate at the stroke of midnight, they’re in luck.

Obviously, when Dan thinks so, it all goes to shit.

Celeste screams in agony, distracting Dan momentarily and a wendigo rams into him from the side, sending them both skidding across the snowy clearing. Phil’s shouts ring in Dan’s ears but he can’t parse them as there’s a beast hissing in his face, threating to rip his throat out. Having no other options, Dan rams his fist between the monster’s ribs and opens his palm, igniting a fire inside the creature. It screams and falls away, writhing on the ground while being scorched from the inside out.

Dan’s heaving heavy breaths as he stands up and leans with his hands on his knees. The flaming trees and corpses illuminate the clearing perfectly. There are no immediate wendigos coming for them, though Dan can hear another bunch of them approaching. Dan’s breath catches when he finally focuses on Phil.

He’s leaning over his mother, her face cradled in his hands. Phil’s cheeks are glistening and he’s murmuring something to himself. There’s too much blood dyeing the trampled snow. Celeste’s blouse is doused in it too. She’s not moving. Kitsu is whimpering pitifully by Phil’s side.

Dan swallows thickly, nearly choking on it. He stands there watching for a good several seconds before managing to make his feet work. Phil doesn’t react as Dan comes up to him or when he drops on his knees beside Phil.

“I’m so sorry,” he croaks out, putting a hand on Phil’s shoulder not even sure if he’s allowed to do that because of their last conversation.

Still, Phil doesn’t even acknowledge his presence.

The wendigos are closing in on them. As Dan lifts his head, he can see them moving through the trees.

“I’ll take care of this,” he whispers to Phil but doesn’t get a response.

Hoping against hope that midnight’s soon enough, Dan focuses all of his magic. His sigils flare bright and bloody red. He waits until the monsters are close enough and then ignites the ground itself on fire, melting right through the banks of snow. Making a half circle around them, Dan raises the flames to twice the beasts’ height. The wall is difficult to maintain, especially with Dan’s dampened magic, but he manages until it’s time.

Enough of the creatures have come close. Dan can feel their cold essence behind his wall of fire so without hesitation the fire mage pushes the wall outwards, forcefully. The fire ignites and scorches everything and anything in its wake. More trees and bushes are lit up, even more beasts drop down screeching in an ear drum piercing volume, and Dan keeps pushing the fire as far as it goes.

A couple minutes after, all there’s left are only burning corpses and the forest itself. The crackling of the fire and Dan’s own harsh breathing are the only sounds the former prince registers. He has enough sense, and magic, left to awaken his sigils again and to tamp down the forest fire that he created.

Illuminated only by the square lights of the cabin windows, Dan falls to his knees, exhausted beyond measure. He never thought his body could handle this much and all the aches start registering, proving him right.

Hanging his head, trying to regain his breath, Dan listens to the loud chimes of a clock in the suddenly too quiet woods. He counts to twelve and sighs in relief. It’s over.

Hopefully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Believe it or not, this is not the worst I have planned for the boys.


	14. 1 day after Winter Solstice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Explicit gore scenes ahead (the second part of the chapter).  
> Just in time for Halloween!!

The harsh beating of his heart against his ribs calms down slowly and the sound of rushing blood in his ears quietens as more minutes pass. Dan can feel the dampness of his jeans from the melted snow puddles all around him. Cold seeps into his very being as he’s got no more magic left to keep himself warm.

He looks down at his hands, clenching the denim covering his thighs. His knuckles are bruised and bleeding and it stings so he relaxes his hold and straightens out his fingers. Muscles protest against his decision to move but he does so anyway, plopping down on his ass on the cold ground. Taking stock of his injuries, Dan notices that it’s not that bad; there are no broken bones so he counts himself lucky.

Dan glances over at Phil. The water mage is still hunched over his dead mother, though now he’s completely silent. Dan wonders if that’s how he himself looked when cradling his own dead mother’s body.

The former prince swallows down the lump in his throat and hastily looks away, rubbing at his eyes with trembling fingers. After a few deep breaths Dan composes himself and stands up, walking over to Phil.

“I’m sor-,” he starts to say, putting a hand on Phil’s shoulder, but is interrupted.

“We need to set up the perimeter again,” Phil says, tone completely flat. “They could come back and we can’t fight them back again.” He’s staring straight in front of himself at the charred up treeline.

“Phil,” Dan says tentatively, “are you sure –”

“Get a sheet from the cabin,” Phil interrupts him again. “We need something to wrap the body in.” Then he stands up and walks away.

Dan watches him with his jaw hanging open. Phil, followed by Kitsu, stops a few feet into the treeline and slightly lifts his arms. His sigils awaken and in the dead of night Dan can hear the mage murmuring to himself. The hum of magic is unmistakable and greatly resembles the one of Celeste’s magical barrier, though Phil’s is somehow stronger.

The former prince chews on his lip, wondering what he should do. For him dealing with grief was all deafening silences, shutting the outside world and shutting himself in his own room for a couple of weeks before emerging like nothing happened. For Phil it seems to be ignoring it from the get-go and dealing with the problems at hand. Whatever works for him, Dan decides. He goes to the cabin to find a clean sheet.

When Dan returns a few minutes later, Phil’s done with the barrier and is standing over the body. His hands are trembling, his jaw is locked tight and his sigils flicker restlessly. Dan approaches carefully. Maybe it’s finally hitting Phil and he’ll go berserk any moment.

However, as Dan reaches him, Phil glances at the former prince without an expression on his face and extends his hand for the sheet. They work together in wrapping up the body. The silence unnerves Dan but he keeps his mouth shut; it’s not like he’s one to talk or offer advice when it comes to dealing with this kind of stuff.

Once they’re done, they leave the body in the shed on a worktop. Phil says they both need rest and they’ll burn the body in the morning. Dan, of course, doesn’t argue. It’s all logical anyway, though so completely unlike Phil that a worry worms itself into Dan’s gut and slithers up to his ear, whispering that Dan better do something before this turns Phil into an emotionless husk of a human being. Dan doesn’t listen to those whispers because he doesn’t want to fuck things up even more than he already did.

While Dan washes up, he can hear the faint hissing outside. Clearly, more of the monsters arrived. But Phil’s barrier holds and Dan sighs in relief before resuming his activities.

There’s a plate of sandwiches and freshly brewed tea waiting for Dan when he returns to the main area. Phil’s also tended to the fireplace so it’s warm and cosy. Kitsu’s sleeping on the mat in front of the fire and Phil’s sitting on the sofa, staring at the flames. He gets up when he notices Dan.

“Eat,” he says, passing by the fire mage and nodding towards the kitchen table. “You lost a lot of energy.”

“Thanks,” Dan mumbles, rubbing the nape of his neck. He has no idea how to talk to this Phil. “Will – um – will you join me?” He asks.

“I already ate,” Phil answers with an obvious lie.

Dan doesn’t call him out on it and just nods. Phil goes to the bathroom and Dan sits at the table to enjoy his late night snack. He gulps down a cup of tea but after two bites of food he feels sick and drops the sandwich back on the plate. He rakes his fingers through his hair, huffing in frustration.

“The fuck do I do?” He mutters.

This is so not the future he imagined when he made all those plans to rescue Phil and run away with him. Dan might’ve had a cabin in mind where they would have sex all day and talk about anything and everything. Or maybe one of those flats that are popular in bigger cities. Dan has no idea how those work but he thought he’d be fine as long as he had Phil. But now? How the fuck is he supposed to help Phil deal with this if Dan himself hasn’t figured it out after years of living through it?

“Fucking hell,” Dan sighs, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands, making colourful explosions appear behind his eyelids.

He steeples his fingers, putting his chin on them and staring out the completely black kitchen window, spots still dancing in his vision. Dan’s made a lot of bad decisions in his life and he was so sure this one, rescuing Phil, was the only right one; love wins all after all, doesn’t it? Clearly, not. Maybe the Five just don’t want him to be happy. Maybe Dan’s done something horrendous in a past life or something and now has to pay the price.

He idly wonders if Phil has committed serious crimes in his past life too to deserve this kind of treatment from the gods. Dan has a difficult time imaging his Phil doing something so appalling that the Five would see it fit to punish him. However, the Phil that reared his head only an hour ago, that Phil could do something unspeakable if it were verified by his logic.

Dan’s head automatically turns at the sound of the bathroom door opening. Phil steps out clad only in a towel and a thin sheet of water droplets. There are bruises over his ribs and a quite serious looking gash on his right forearm. Deep purple shadows have settled themselves under his eyes, his cheeks are more hollow, making the sharpness of his cheekbones stand out. He’s still gorgeous to Dan. Fuck, Dan’s in deep.

Without any authorisation from Dan, his body moves from the kitchen chair to Phil, who’s only taken a couple steps into the room. The water mage looks up with a raised eyebrow at the former prince. For the second time that night, Dan doesn’t know what comes over him. But he leans in, framing Phil’s pale cheeks in his hands, and kisses him, pressing the other mage into the wall and completely devouring his mouth.

To himself Dan justifies it as celebrating life in the face of death. Or maybe a helpful distraction from all the horrors they experienced. Dan fucked himself into next week after the two weeks of grief in his room so maybe his subconscious thought this would help Phil too.

The fact that Dan’s craving physical proof of Phil still being here, still alive and not emotionally stunted, might have spurred things into action too.

But Dan doesn’t get to reassure himself for long.

“The fuck is wrong with you?” Phil asks angrily, pushing Dan away from him with force. Dan’s just glad he evoked some sort of emotion from Phil. “I just saw a fucking monster gut my mother and you want to fuck? After you’ve basically told me that our whole relationship is built on a lie?” Phil’s nearly shouting and his sigils are burning bright.

“I just thought –” Dan tries to explain himself but feels stupid for what he’s about to say.

“Well, you thought wrong.” Phil looks at him with disgust. “I’m not a whore like you. Sex won’t fix everything for me.”

Dan gapes. What the actual fuck? The former prince feels his own anger rising. “Phil, that is _not_ what I –”

“I can’t deal with you right now,” Phil closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “Just,” he exhales shakily, opening his eyes. “Let’s get some sleep.”

Dan clamps his mouth shut so he wouldn’t start a shouting match. He was just trying to help for the sake of the Five! Clearly, he shouldn’t even try to do that. Whatever. Dan huffs and walks away from Phil, falling back onto the sofa and staring up at the ceiling.

He listens to Phil puttering about, getting ready for bed. A blanket lands on Dan’s face and the former prince grunts his thanks. Once Phil settles in bed, Dan wakes a sigil, breathes out slowly, and the flames on the candles diminish before extinguishing themselves entirely.

Dan’s sleep is fitful to put it mildly.

***

Morning comes with more darkness, as is the norm these past few days. Dan’s just glad they’ll have a few hours of sunlight today and more and more during the coming days till it’ll be the whole 24 hours of fun in the sun during the Summer Solstice. That day can’t come soon enough for Dan.

They eat breakfast in silence. Dan’s not of much use during that one, all he can do is light the fireplace and all the candles to provide appropriate lighting. Phil doesn’t comment on his unhelpfulness though.

Dan’s magic is stronger today, thanks to Phil’s teas and the promise of sun later in the day. He feels it thrumming restlessly under his skin and he welcomes the buzz after being denied for nearly a full day. Experimentally, while waiting for Phil to finish frying eggs, Dan wakens and quietens his sigils one by one, giddy as a child that they work properly even though not as strong yet.

Dan helps with the clearing and washing of the dishes after they’re done eating. He receives a few glares and not so gentle nudges from Phil when he does something wrong and Dan tries not to hold it against him but it still hurts when Phil looks at him like Dan’s responsible for all of Phil’s plight.

Yeah, not the best start to a new life.

They start building the funeral pyre after that. It’s arduous and Dan hates every second of the hard labour he has to do but he keeps his mouth shut like the good little former prince he is and helps Phil cut down and carry logs into the clearing. Phil only barks orders at him and Dan does his best to comply.

While putting one log on top of another, Dan idly wonders what Phil will do when there are no more things he absolutely has to do. What’s going to happen when there are no more distractions of hard labour or impending death by monsters? Dan doubts it’ll be anything good.

Phil lays his mother’s body on top of the pyre and steps back to Dan, nodding at him. The fire mage only has to awaken a sigil and concentrate enough on the wood for the flames to appear, engulfing the pyre in bright oranges and reds and illuminating the pitch black morning.

For an indeterminate amount of time they stand there and watch. Dan’s fingers twitch a few times, wanting to reach for Phil’s hand, but he reminds himself that he’s no longer allowed to do that so he keeps his limbs to himself. He envies Kitsu who’s a permanent fixture next to Phil. And that’s how far gone Dan is that he glares at the affection Phil gives his soul animal, wanting to be the one who consoles Phil and not that stupid fox.

In the east, the sky starts turning royal blue instead of abyss black, and Dan breathes out in relief. Finally. They’re not going to have much sunlight today but Dan would rejoice even if it lasted five minutes.

“What now?” Dan asks over the noise of the crackling wood.

“We should check on the nearby villages,” Phil answers, eyes glued to the flames, voice still dead. “There seemed to be a lot of wendigos, they might’ve spread out and attacked anything that moves.”

Dan nods his acquiescence and they get back to the cabin to get some supplies for the day. When they emerge, the pyre is still going and the sky has shifted into dark grey territory with hues of dark blue still residing in the west. There are no wendigos around, no hissing or screeching to be heard. They set off with Phil and Kitsu in the lead and Dan following behind them.

The lighter it gets, the better Dan’s mood becomes. Crisp morning air feels good in his lungs and he even lets his sigils quieten for a moment to feel the biting chill of the winter air. Above him, the sky slowly turns clear blue and the sun starts beating down on them.

And then they reach the first village.

Phil’s sharp intake of breath is the only warning Dan gets for what he sees when he steps to stand next to the water mage. They’re in the main square – a crossroads of the two main roads, to be more precise. And there are piles upon piles of bodies. Blood is frozen in rivers on the ground, stray limbs and intestines are littered all over, the bodies are half eaten and thrown haphazardly on top of one another.

Dan turns around and falls on his knees, heaving his breakfast out onto the ground. He sits his ass on the snow and pulls some water out of his backpack to rinse the bile out of his mouth. He does _not_ turn around.

Next to him, Phil doesn’t move for a couple of minutes before seemingly regaining his ability to function.

“We need to get to the castle,” he says, voice strangled and betraying more emotion than Dan’s heard from him since last night.

Dan nods his head several times, running a hand down his face. “Where’s the stables?” He asks, standing up but not looking back.

“They won’t have left any horses,” Phil counters, already catching on to Dan’s idea. “They slaughtered ours when we were getting here. What makes you think they left anything alive?”

Dan shrugs a shoulder. “Won’t hurt to look,” he replies.

Phil doesn’t answer, only walks past Dan, leading him away from the gruesome pile behind them. The door of the stables is wide open and there’s not a living being inside. However, only a couple of horses have been mutilated, the rest must have escaped.

“Maybe we’ll find some in the other village,” Dan suggests without real hope while looking anywhere but at the dead animals.

Phil snorts derisively. “Yeah, because we’re just that lucky.”

Dan doesn’t comment on that. At least one of them should maintain hope, even if it’s a false one. And Dan never saw himself being the one to doing so.

They trudge on forwards. Dan’s good mood has been swept away in the wake of what he saw. He knew those beasts are vicious but he didn’t think they could have caused so much destruction. Looking back, he has no idea how he, Phil and Celeste managed to actually fight back the wendigos. Maybe it’s because they knew who they were up against and the people from the village had no warning so, in turn, no chance of survival. A small gnawing doubt invites itself into his brain, whispering that things at the castle might have turned out the same as in the village. Dan tunes it the fuck out.

The next town is a little bigger and the pile of people is accordingly larger. Dan doesn’t puke his guts out this time but only because he turns away immediately and goes in search of horses. The stables of the town are empty too.

“Fuck the motherfucking Five,” Dan whispers harshly under his breath, scowling at the sight of just the bays of hay before him.

He steps outside, leaning his back on the wall and thumping his head on it. Dan closes his eyes for a few moments, breathing in deeply and trying to centre himself or some bullshit. It doesn’t work either way.

“We’re losing daylight,” Phil’s voice sound right in front of him and Dan starts, opening his eyes.

How he missed the sight of Phil’s blue eyes in sunlight. They’re stunning. Dan stares at the swirls of green and specks of gold in Phil’s iris, completely missing out on what the water mage is saying. The former prince has only one thought in mind and that’s how the hell is he going to fix things with Phil.

“Dan?” Phil snaps his fingers in front of Dan’s face and the brunet blinks rapidly, clearing out the haze in his mind.

“Yeah?” He inquires, watching every minute expression on Phil’s face. And the water mage does not look happy.

“Do you ever listen to me?” Phil huffs in annoyance, brows knitting, mouth set in a hard line. “Do you care what I have to say at all? Or do you just do whatever the hell you feel like?”

Okay, so this is clearly not about Dan not listening just now. He opens his mouth to, like usually, spin some lies but Phil shakes his head, holding his hand out.

“I don’t even want to know what you were about to say,” Phil decides and steps back. “Let’s just go and find those the Five damned horses.”

Dan presses his lips into a line and follows Phil out of the village.

Halfway to the castle, they manage to find a couple of spooked mares but with the offer of apples the horses warm up to them quickly. Riding without a saddle to Dan is a new and extremely uncomfortable experience but he manages. He’s been managing a lot during the past couple of days and he idly wonders when will that rear its ugly head. Hopefully that’s a worry for the way in the future Dan.

With horses they reach the castle with a half hour of light still to spare. It’s deathly silent as they approach and Dan’s heart starts an anxiety filled rhythm. Phil steers them to the same servant courtyard from which they escaped. They leave the mares there and cautiously step inside.

The soft clinking of Kitsu’s nails echoes too loudly in the quiet castle. Dan’s got his hands balled into fists, nails digging into the flesh of his palm. His anxiety reaches a new high and Dan genuinely thinks his heart will break his ribcage and flop onto the floor in front of him.

After a couple corridors and sharp turns, Phil leads them to the main entrance hall. Dan stops short a couple of steps in, just like Phil. Both of their tattoos are flickering intermittently.

The main entrance door lies broken off the hinges and shattered into splinters on the floor. Wind billows from the outside, creating small drifts of snow around the entrance and around the bodies lying there. Spatters of red colour every surface.

Dan shakes his head, his hands trembling. “No,” he murmurs to himself. He backs away from the scene, turning around and running to the staircase.

“Mat! Lor!” He’s shouting as he’s sprinting up the stairs. The names only echo and return to him faint and disjointed. “Bas! Dad!” But no one answers him.

Dan checks the rooms first. They’re left just as he remembers them. Elora’s dresses are still strewn about in her chamber, in Mathias’s room there’s two wine glasses and a platter of fruit left in front of the fire, his father’s room is an organised mess of important letters and other documents. It’s like they just up and left in a hurry.

For a few seconds all Dan can hear is the rushing of blood in his ears as he stands frozen on the threshold of his father’s chamber. But then he’s running and his ears are filled with the resounding thuds of his footsteps, his own harsh breathing, Phil shouting names down the corridor. He reaches the Main Hall in record time and he wishes he hadn’t made there at all.

At first glance, it looks similar to the main entrance: door’s off hinges, guards, or rather parts of them, strewn about the floor. And because they’re not outside naturally freezing, the stench is overwhelming.

Dan has a moment dry-heaving before he even dares approach the Main Hall.

The inside of the great room is even worse than the sight in the villages. The whole of the court must have gathered here when the wendigos hit; there are too many bodies and the floor is overflowing with blood. Having no other choice, Dan looks around in search of his family but all he sees are ripped off or chewed off body parts, brains falling out of smashed skulls, entrails slithering down corpses. He gags and puts a hand on his mouth.

Against his better judgment and his violently beating heart, Dan walks further into the Hall. His boots squelch in the pool of blood and he nearly slips on some innards. The roiling in his stomach intensifies but Dan forces himself to scan the corpses.

He notices Elora first. Her dark curls are soaking in the blood, her eyes are open and staring straight at Dan, she’s got a hand stretched in his direction. Dan gulps loudly, nearly choking on it, as he kneels to cradle her lifeless form. He closes her eyes and wipes down his own tears that have dropped onto her pale cheeks.

“I’m so sorry,” Dan murmurs over and over again as he hugs her to his chest, rocking softly.

Mathias and Sebastian are lying close by her. There’s a deep four-clawed gash on Mathias’s chest, Sebastian’s throat is sliced through. Dan’s father is a few feet away from them. His belly is ripped open and that’s all that Dan sees before turning his eyes away and sobbing into his dead sister’s bloody curls.

He wants to scream and punch something or someone. He wants to set fire to this whole place. He wants not to feel the bone deep all-consuming ache in his chest. Most of all he wishes he would’ve warned them, that he would’ve returned here straight away when Phil first suggested it.

“It’s all my fault,” Dan whispers to Elora’s body. “I’m so sorry, Lor. I’m so fucking sorry.”

He sobs for hours on end, it seems. The sun has long set down when he releases his sister and crawls over to his brother. Dan cards his blood sticky fingers through Mathias’s hair, whispering apologies to him as well. Only then Dan realises that he’s not alone.

Phil’s kneeling by his father’s body. His head is bent down, hand on the king’s chest, as he finally lets himself sob too. Kitsu noses at his cheeks, whining softly, and only partly calms down when Phil brushes his fingers through her fur.

Madeleine, eyes white and glassy, dress dyed in large spots of crimson, lies beside Gordon, staring up into the ceiling. Her sisters and mother lie there too. Their blonde hair dipped in red, throats slit, mouths open in mute screams. Cornelia's red lipstick stands out stark against her pale skin splattered with red dots.

Dan lowers his eyes to his own dead family. With trembling fingers, he touches Sebastian’s not mauled cheek. “You were right,” he murmurs to the body of the clairvoyant. “I should’ve listened to you, Bass. I’m sorry,” he apologises for the umpteenth time, choking on a sob.

Another indeterminable amount of time passes. Dan manages to cry himself dry as he sits soaked in other people’s blood, petting his dead family members. The gut churning guilt urges him to do something reckless and stupid, like go and off himself. The anger that sets his cheeks ablaze suggests hunting down all the motherfuckers who did this and off them instead. The grief and sadness that constrict his chest, making it difficult to even draw a breath, want him to curl up into a ball and not move for the upcoming century or so.

Finally, the logic that manifests itself as Phil, drags him up into a standing position.

“The wendigos are coming back,” he whispers, voice hoarse from all the crying he himself has done. “We need to move, Dan.” His fingers dig into Dan's shoulders, urging him out of his stupor.

Dan clenches his jaw. His immediate reaction is to tell Phil to fuck the hell off and leave him alone with his dead family. But he reins that part of himself in and nods.

They step out the Main Hall and the hissing of the beasts gets louder and clearer; there must be dozens of them. Dan stops Phil with a hand on the water mage’s arm.

“We can’t leave them like this,” Dan murmurs, glancing over his shoulder to the massacre in the Hall. “The wendigos will –” Dan chokes but manages to force out, “I won’t let my family be devoured by those creatures.”

Phil sets his jaw, looking away for a second. He gathers himself quickly and asks, “What do you want to do?”

“Burn it all down,” Dan answers immediately. “With those fuckers inside,” he inclines his head in the direction of the hissing.

“Yeah, okay,” Phil agrees without much arguing.

Thanks to Phil living in the castle his whole life, they quickly get to the nearest supply closet and get all the lamp oil there is. After running back to the Main Hall, they pour it all around and onto the bodies. Dan clenches his teeth and reminds himself why he’s doing this so as not to just drop everything and turn into a sobbing wreck once more.

Phil guides Dan to a servants’ corridor that’s out of the way but from which they can still see the entrance to the Hall. They stay pressed to the wall, barely peeking out the corner. Dan can feel the heat of Phil’s body so close behind him. His heart jumps in joy, momentarily forgetting all the awful shit, when Phil puts a hand on Dan’s hip and squeezes reassuringly.

The wendigos come hissing and snarling. Their deformed forms send chills down Dan’s spine. Claws of those beasts drag over the stone floors, making an ear splitting screeching. Frost and waves of coldness follow in the monsters’ wake, adorning the floors and walls in white ornaments.

Dan holds his breath as the creatures lumber past their hiding place. Phil’s fingers dig deeper into Dan’s flesh but the former prince doesn’t even react, too transfixed watching the mages turned cannibalistic beasts.

Once enough of them are inside, Dan wakes his sigils, calling the monsters’ attention to himself. But he only sets fire to the trail of lamp oil and stays for a second to watch the whole corridor be set on fire before hightailing it out of there after Phil and Kitsu.

The crackling of the fire and the shrieking of the wendigos is deafening when they get outside. Dan and Phil quickly mount the mares and ride away from the castle. They stop by the treeline to enjoy their handiwork.

Smoke billows out the open windows into the dark sky. Flames are licking their way outside the window frames, lighting up the night. The fire spreads quickly, eating up everything in its path. Dan can hear the creaking of the building, the loud bangs of collapsing ceilings and floor.

“You think that’s all of them?” Phil wonders quietly.

“Not even close,” Dan answers. His eyes are tracking the movement of the fire; he doesn’t think it will reach out into the woods. “I can feel their magic,” he elaborates, glancing at Phil, noting how glorious the dancing flames look in his eyes. “They’re like spots of cold. More of them are coming from the east.”

Phil nods, jaw locking. “Then we burn them too.”

“We will,” Dan promises. “For now we need to rest and I need to get the full force of my magic back. Then those fuckers will pay for what they did.” He scowls at the flaming castle before turning his mare around.

They ride back to the cabin in silence through the woods devoid of life. The crescent moon dimly illuminates their path. Kitsu is leaving red paw prints as she runs in front of them, her fur glowing a soft icy blue. Vengeance brews in Dan’s heart, an all-consuming rage takes over his whole being and all he can think about is the satisfaction he will get when torching those monsters on fire.

Who could’ve thought that his new life would be even worse than his old one? The Five sure as hell are not smiling upon him. Dan snorts to himself. As if they ever were.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You asked how could I make this worse? Well, by killing everyone the boys hold dear of course!  
> Tbh, when I started writing this, I never thought it would go so dark in theme...  
> But the worst is over!! The epilogue will be fun! Kind of...


	15. Epilogue: One year after/24-23 days until Winter Solstice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's smut at the end of the chapter, beware those who don't like it!!

The buzz of the tattoo gun is easy to block out but the sting of the needle piercing his skin over and over again not so much. Dan wants to squirm away from the burning sensation travelling all the way down his spine but he knows he has to stay still if he doesn’t want to fuck up the sigil. This piece between his shoulder blades is the biggest he’s had done so far and he’ll be damned if he messes it up by moving.

But he’s been sitting still for hours and he’s really itching for a smoke. Dan’s about to ask for a break when Phil pats his shoulder.

“I’m done,” Phil announces as the buzzing stops.

“Fucking finally,” Dan sighs and moves his shoulders about.

Phil slathers some herbal mix on the fresh wound and then Dan’s free to stand up. He stretches his arms above his head and rotates his shoulders some more; his muscles have gone incredibly stiff. The ache of the new tattoo quickly disintegrates until Dan can’t even feel it anymore.

Dan plops down onto the sofa, reaching for his cigarettes and ignoring the disapproving looks Kitsu and Umbra give him. The white fox and the black cat are lying in front of the fire, curled up around one another. With a touch of his fingertip Dan’s got the cigarette lit and inhales deeply, blowing out the smoke in the direction of the soul animals just to annoy them further. To his satisfaction Umbra growls and flashes her golden eyes at him.

“We’re sure she’s yours, right?” Phil quips from where he’s tidying up at the kitchen table.

Dan shrugs a shoulder, feeling a sting on his back. “We have a mutual hate relationship rather than one of love and understanding. It works for us. Right, darling?” He addresses the cat who only sneers at him and turns away. Dan laughs to himself.

After getting his much needed dose of nicotine, Dan gets up to pour himself some scotch. Now he gets the added disapproving look from Phil.

“The sun will set in a few hours,” the water mage prompts, one eyebrow raised.

“I won’t get drunk,” Dan rolls his eyes and sips at his drink to prove the point that he can drink moderately.

Phil snorts and shakes his head. “Yeah, that’s what you said the last three times.”

“Your point?” Dan asks, raising an eyebrow back at him.

Phil sighs. He leans against the now cleared kitchen table and crosses his arms. “My point is that you need to stop.”

“Oh, I can stop,” Dan smiles too sweetly. “Unlike you with those herbs you’ve been using.” Dan knows it’s not really fair. Phil’s addiction sprouted from months of sleepless nights marred by nightmares that nearly drove him literally insane. But Dan can’t stop himself from being a vindictive little shit.

Phil’s features harden and he stands up straighter. “Go fuck yourself,” he grits through clenched teeth.

Dan laughs loud and clear. “But, babe, you do it so much better,” he says, winking at the water mage.

There’s a knock on the cabin door and Dan sets his drink down to go answer it. Mercedes stands on their front stoop, her dark curly hair tied in a tight bun, cheeks tinged pink from the cold. She’s all bundled up in a coat and has a basket in her mitten covered hands.

“Mercie?” Dan asks, surprised. “We weren’t expecting you for another couple of days.”

The young woman shrugs a shoulder. “Cassandra and I had a bit of a tiff,” she says stiffly. “I decided I needed some fresh air.”

“Oh, _Cassandra_ ,” Dan intones. It’s never good when Mercedes starts calling her girlfriend Cassandra instead of Cassie. It must have been one hell of a row.

“Can I come in? Or will you make me freeze my ass off?” She demands, and Dan steps aside immediately.

Mercie makes herself at home. She sheds her winter wear by the door and carries her basket over to the kitchen table, greeting Phil. Dan approaches them both, grabbing his forgotten tumbler of scotch on his way, and plops down in a chair.

“Did I interrupt something?” Mercie asks suddenly, glancing at Dan’s half naked form.

Phil snorts, not breaking his concentration on unpacking the goodies Mercedes has brought. Dan rolls his eyes.

“Nah,” the fire mage says and turns a bit so his back is to the woman. “Got my newest sigil tattooed just now.”

“Oh, that looks amazing,” Mercie says with wonder in her voice. In his peripheral Dan can see her extending her fingers towards the design and stopping once she realises what she’s doing.

“Yep,” Dan pops the p and sits back straight in the chair. “Now I’m certified to summon demons and shit.” He takes a swig of his drink.

“Really?” Mercie’s eyes widen. Though in surprise or fear, Dan can’t quite tell.

“Yes,” Phil answers instead of Dan. There’s a crease between his eyebrows and he’s putting down jars that Mercedes brought with more force than necessary. “Dan is really excited about that,” he says not hiding the disdain in his voice.

“Of course, I fucking am,” Dan replies with more venom than the discussion requires. But they had this fight so many times that it’s grating on his nerves immediately. “Now that the Solstice is right around the corner, we’ll need all the help we can get if we want to survive this one.”

“Sure, let’s summon demons for help then. I’m certain they’ll be more than glad to lend a hand and they won’t just fuck shit up more because, oh, I don’t know, they’re _demons_ ,” Phil glares at Dan, palms planted on the surface of the table to loom over it.

“Okay,” Mercedes says slowly, glancing between the two of them warily. “Clearly, that’s a sensitive topic. Sorry I asked.”

Phil only pushes off the table with a huff and starts putting the goods in their places while Dan shrugs a shoulder and finishes off his drink. Mercedes sighs and sits down.

“Have I got you everything you need?” She asks, turning to Phil slightly.

“Yes,” the water mage answers, not turning around. “Thank you, Mercie.”

“Thank _you_ for keeping those creatures away,” Mercedes says sincerely. “Everyone that’s left is very grateful for you two. We wouldn’t last a day without you.” She puts her forearms on the table, leaning forwards slightly and smiling warmly at Dan.

“Yeah, well,” he shrugs again and gets up to get another drink to avoid the awkwardness. Even after a year, it’s still difficult for him to accept people’s gratitude. It’s not like he kills those wendigos to protect what’s left of the populous in the north. Dan, as much as Phil, does it out of need for revenge. There are no heroic reasons behind what they’re doing.

He gets back to the kitchen table, not missing how Phil frowns when catching a glimpse of Dan’s refilled tumbler. Whatever. At least, the alcohol in Dan’s system will help him to not be as scared shitless when they eventually go out.

“So why did you and Cassie have a fight?” Dan asks to dispel the silence.

Mercedes purses her lips into a thin line and drums her fingers on the wooden surface of the table. Her eyes dart away.

“After what happened during the last year,” she begins but trails off. Sighing sadly, Mercie continues, “The east and the mountain area are wastelands. Here in the west there’s only one port left. Our kingdom has been occupied. And now they’re building that wall to keep the creatures from travelling south and cutting us off from the rest of the world.” She gnaws on her lip.

Dan glances over at Phil, who’s standing stock still at the kitchen counter, gripping the countertop fiercely, making frost spread over the surface from his fingertips. Phil’s not taken that well to his father’s kingdom crumbling down into nothing overnight and then being taken over by a neighbouring country since the whole of the Bourbon court had died. The new government segregated the whole of the north, putting border control in place. The only way to get in or out is the only port city left here. Though it’s not like many people want to get in these days.

Dan’s kingdom was luckier in that regard. They only lost the royal family and a new successor was soon found. From what Dan’s heard recently, the new king is great at his job and the kingdom is prospering. At least his nation lucked out; they wouldn't have it this good if Dan had taken over the throne.

“Cassandra wants to leave,” Mercedes says, bringing Dan’s focus back to her. She’s angry, her eyebrows are pulled together in a frown. “But this is my home, I’ve lived her since birth. And only the Five know how bad it is in the south with the new government doing whatever they want. The north, at least, has not been touched by their political scheming.”

She heaves a few angry breaths and tucks a lock of hair behind her ear, frowning at the table.

“That fucking sucks,” is all Dan can think of mumbling before taking a swig of his drink.

He tries not to think how much he’d rather be in Mercie’s shoes and that her situation doesn’t suck as much as his. He lost his whole family, every person he ever cared for in one day, and she’s complaining about her girlfriend wanting to move? Yeah, sure, it’s her situation that sucks. Not that Dan would voice any of his frustrations out loud; he’s not _that_ much of an insensitive asshole, no matter what Phil says.

Phil stops sulking by the counter and comes closer to them. He puts a hand on Mercie’s shoulder, squeezing reassuringly.

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” he says. His tone is soft and gentle. Dan’s breath hitches at that; he hasn’t heard Phil talk like that in what feels like weeks. “Maybe you could move to Newport, it’s the safest place out here.”

“Then who will bring you food so you don’t starve to death?” Mercie lifts an eyebrow at him.

Phil rolls his eyes. “I’m sure we’ll survive. There’s plenty of game in the woods.”

Mercedes smiles at him, and he goes back to the counter, grabbing a kettle. “Would you like some tea?” Phil asks her. The woman shakes her head.

“I should go,” Mercie says, standing up. “Wouldn’t want to be caught outside when it gets dark.”

“Yes, of course,” Phil nods his head, smiling kindly. Dan notes that his fake smiles have gotten a lot better; this one could even pass for real if Dan didn’t know to look for it.

Mercedes moves through the cabin, collecting her things and putting on her coat and mittens. This time Phil goes with her. He hands her the empty basket by the door.

“I’ll see you next week with the same order?” Mercedes slightly lifts her basket in question. There are worry lines on her forehead. She really cares too much about Dan and Phil, in Dan’s opinion.

“As for the past few months, yeah,” Phil laughs lightly and it even sounds genuine.

“Alright,” Mercedes smiles at him. “Bye, Dan,” she waves at him, and Dan raises his tumbler at her. The woman leans over to Phil, whispering something to him and kissing his cheek before departing.

Dan doesn’t ask Phil what Mercedes told him. He only takes a gulp of scotch and follows Phil’s movements with his eyes. They don’t talk as Phil prepares dinner. They don’t really interact much with each other lately at all, only doing so when necessary. Dan would love to change that but he doesn’t know how. Maybe he’ll make it his New Year’s resolution. If he survives that long.

“Andrea and Ian are late,” Phil remarks after an hour or so. He’s chopping vegetables with vigour, and not for the first time Dan thinks that Phil would love to just stab the hell out of a wendigo without even using his powers.

“I’m sure they’ll get your herb order on time,” Dan snarks. He can’t help it, it’s an involuntary reaction by now. Phil sends him a glare for the remark and doesn’t continue the conversation that barely even started.

Dan only gets up from his seat, snatches his shirt from the back of the couch and puts it on. He grabs his cigarettes and goes outside for a smoke. The sky’s starting to turn dark blue when Dan steps out, and he leans on the porch rail, eyes skimming over the treeline.

Dan’s halfway through the cigarette when he notices bright red moving through the trees followed by a black mass. After a few minutes both figures step into the clearing and near the cabin.

“Ian,” Dan nods to the burly guy, wearing a red hooded cape and carrying a satchel. “Andrea,” he half-smiles to the huge black wolf who only lolls her tongue out of her mouth. “You’re late. Phil got worried.” He flicks the cigarette butt into the snow.

“We got side-tracked by a rugaru,” Ian answers, shrugging a shoulder. Dan lifts an eyebrow, pushing himself off the rail and leading their guests inside. “It was nothing we couldn’t handle,” the man assures Dan.

“Andrea, Ian,” Phil greets them with a smile, more than he gives Dan on a monthly basis, probably because they supply the water mage with narcotic herbs.

“Phil,” Ian nods his greeting. The man puts the satchel on the sofa and takes his coat off. Dan and Phil both turn around, giving Andrea some privacy to turn back and put it on.

“Hello, boys,” the woman’s cheery voice resounds through the cabin and Dan plops into a chair, facing their guests. Andrea’s smile is wide and happy, completely not like the usual mood in the cabin.

The shape-shifter seats herself on the sofa and Ian brings the satchel to Phil. While Mercedes supplies Dan and Phil with food and stuff they need around the cabin, Andrea and Ian supply them with magical items and herbs. The three of them are the only people Dan and Phil see regularly, and Dan would probably go insane if he had only Phil’s oppressive silences and passive aggressive behaviour to keep him company so he’s extremely grateful for those three.

“Oh, she’s new,” Andrea remarks, spotting Umbra that’s still curled up with Kitsu. The black cat opens one gold eye to look over the shape-shifter and then lifts her head, clearly finding her interesting.

“Yeah,” Dan draws out. He watches as Umbra slowly makes her way towards Andrea, sniffing. “Conjured her up like a month ago,” he adds.

“Aren’t you just the prettiest?” Andrea coos at the black cat. Kitsu grumbles from beside the fire, her icy blue eyes narrowed. Andrea laughs. "Oh, you're gorgeous too, darling," she says, placating the white fox.

Andrea reaches out a hand to touch the soul animal, and Umbra sniffs at her fingers. Dan huffs and lifts his eyes to the ceiling when Umbra lets the woman pet her a couple times, deeming it enough and turning around to go back to Kitsu.

“Traitor,” Dan mutters under his breath, glaring at his familiar. The cat hisses at him as she passes by and Dan raises his middle finger at her. Umbra only scoffs at that as if he’s the only one acting childish here.

“Wow, you’re getting on well,” Andrea comments with a raised eyebrow. “I thought mages and their familiars have this deep close bond.”

“Under normal circumstances, yeah,” Dan shrugs. He doesn’t really want to explain why Umbra turned out the way she did; it would be like revealing his soul, his inner darkest thoughts. Truth be told, Dan didn’t realise how emotionally damaged he is until he first saw and interacted with Umbra.

Andrea lets it drop and Dan’s grateful for that. The shape-shifter snuggles deeper into the red cape, putting her legs under herself and making herself more comfortable on the sofa. Dan listens in on the conversation that Phil and Ian are having by the kitchen table. It’s not interesting – the order for next month, payment for this month, – so Dan tunes it out again.

“You’re going out tonight?” Andrea asks.

“Yep,” Dan answers, smirking. “Should be fun. More and more of those monsters emerge the closer we get to the Solstice.”

“You’ll be careful, right?” She leans forward in her seat, eyebrows drawn close.

Dan scoffs. “Of course,” he says as if it’s obvious. Though they rarely are careful. Especially not during those first few months after the last Solstice. Those were dark times for both of them but somehow they were closer then, physically as much as emotionally. Ah, good times.

Dan’s smirk fades off his face and he ruffles his hair. “What about you?” He asks as a distraction. “What have you been up to for the past month?”

Andrea shrugs a shoulder. “I bit a vampire’s head off like two weeks ago,” she supplies with a soft smile that doesn’t suit the tone of the sentence. “Other than that, it’s been calm around here. Even the bad guys are afraid of those freaks from the mountains.”

Dan nods his head a few times in agreement.

“We’ve also hunted down that ogre last week,” Ian adds, coming to sit on the armrest that Andrea’s leaning on.

“Oh, right,” she draws out. “But that was easy and not much fun.”

Ian rolls his eyes but there’s a small smile tugging at his lips. “Of course,” he intones, “because fun for you means biting off heads.”

Andrea’s eyes are wide as she looks at her boyfriend. She gasps in faux offense. “Not only heads,” she replies. “Other limbs are fine too.”

Ian snorts a laugh, shaking his head fondly. He leans down, kissing her dark hair and tugging at the cape. “Come on, my beautiful wolf, we should get home.”

Andrea sighs dramatically but gets off the couch, pecking Ian’s lips when she’s stood up. 

The fire mage feels the acidic burn of jealousy making its way into his heart. He purses his lips, telling himself that he has no right to feel like that about his friends. Sure, Dan’s relationship with Phil is not ideal but there’s still hope. At least, Dan thinks there is.

Dan stands up too, turning around to let Andrea change. His eyes linger on Phil’s turned back, the way his muscles stretch the shirt, how tense he is, not ever managing to relax.

There’s a yip from behind him and Dan turns to face Andrea in her favourite skin as a wolf. Ian dons the red cape and accepts the satchel that Phil brings over to him. They shake hands, saying their thanks and goodbyes, and Dan leads the pair to the door.

“Be safe,” he tells them, leaning on the door jamb.

“You too,” Ian says, nodding.

Dan watches the two figures retreat into the treeline. The wolf nudges the man in the side, making the latter stumble and the former growl out a mockery of a laugh. Ian reaches for Andrea, mussing up her fur and laughing alongside her. Sighing, Dan pushes off the door and heads back inside.

“Dinner’s ready,” Phil informs Dan when the fire mage approaches him in the kitchen area.

Phil’s putting meat and veggie casserole into a bowl. Dan stands close to him, pretending to peer over his shoulder, and lightly puts his hand on Phil’s lower back. “Need help?” He asks casually.

Phil tenses up and halts his movements for just a second before turning slightly, making Dan drop his hand. “No,” he says with more force than necessary, thrusting the half-filled bowl into Dan’s hands.

“Right,” Dan murmurs to himself, getting the not so subtle hint. Can’t blame a guy for trying.

They eat in silence, of course. When they’re done, the sun has already dipped low, shining gold through the thick branches of the pine trees. By the time Dan’s washed the dishes and Phil’s got their gear ready, it’s dusk.

“You’re ready?” Phil asks, like every time, handing Dan a couple of daggers.

“Sure,” Dan replies, as he always does, tucking the daggers into his boots.

Truth be told, Dan’s never _ready_ per say. That would imply he’s not scared shitless to go out and kill some monsters. But the constant need for revenge and deep seated anger overrides the fear every time. The added kick of an adrenalin high (to which Dan now thinks he’s addicted) comes in handy too.

After Dan’s put out the candles and the fireplace, the four of them step outside. Kitsu and Umbra take the lead, heading east. The eastern part of this region is nearly deserted, save for a few brave or stupid, depends on your view, souls. Their cabin is the most western point that the wendigos dare approach. And they never make past Dan and Phil.

They move through the woods quickly and quietly, with practised ease. Soon they reach the ruins of the castle. The building has collapsed in on itself. Most of the stones are still blackened from the fire though a thick layer of snow hides that at the moment.

Phil stands still for a few seconds, and Dan stops next to him out of habit. The water mage skims his eyes over the ruins, clenching his hands into fists and locking his jaw. Dan moves his glance over to Umbra and Kitsu, that are sitting a little ways further, their shining eyes also boring into the carcass of the castle.

The moment passes and they move forward again. When darkness descends fully upon them, they rely on the full moon to light their path. Normally, Kitsu’s whole body would glow, emitting a low light, helping them see, but now the moonlight’s enough.

Umbra senses them first. The cat sneers, her whole fur catching on fire, and runs off. Dan steels himself and hurries after her. He can hear Phil’s feet crunching snow behind himself and that’s enough of a confirmation for Dan that the other is following.

There’s only two of the beasts, bent over what looks like a mutilated elk in a shallow stream. The gangly beasts turn to the new arrivals at once, hissing at the interruption. One of them stands up slowly, blood dripping out of its gaping mouth and onto the snowy floor of the woods.

“Come on, gorgeous,” Dan mumbles under his breath, lifting his palm up and, with a flare of a sigil, summoning a ball of flame onto it.

The other wendigo stands up now too, hissing and screeching. Dan doesn’t give them much time to ‘talk’ it over and just throws the flame ball at the one closest to him. And he would’ve hit his mark spot on if Phil hadn’t bumped into him, making his aim way off.

“The fuck?” Dan snarls, turning to look over his shoulder.

Phil’s back is to Dan, another two wendigos are approaching them. Dan has a brief thought that maybe the creatures are becoming smarter or something, setting up a trap for them, but a freezing cold rushes over him and he turns back to his own two beasts.

They’re closing in on him, slowly staggering towards him as if assured of an easy prey. Bloody claws drag through the snow, leaving red tracks. Their ghastly skeletal forms cast deformed shadows in the moonlight.

Dan punches the air a couple times, sending fire blasts towards the wendigos and stepping closer to them in turn. They dodge him, dropping to the ground and getting up faster than before. The two beasts properly run towards the fire mage and Dan has to use his every evading technique to not get clipped by claws or teeth.

He sets his palms on fire and now he’s the one trying to inflict physical damage. The wendigos prove to be faster than Dan’s expected and his punches miss. For that he’s awarded a full body tackle and a nice scratch down his left arm that makes Dan grunt in pain. He drops on all fours from the force of the contact.

Umbra and Kitsu try to distract the wendigos as much as they can. But since being touched by one of those creatures renders either soul animal useless for some time, they don't get too close and don't provide too much help. Umbra does manage to confuse the two wendigos that're coming for Dan and makes them fall flat on their disgusting deformed faces, giving Dan a precious few seconds.

Now kneeling on one knee, Dan gets a dagger from his right boot, coating it in his own blood and setting it ablaze. He gets to his feet and throws the weapon at one of the monsters. The dagger lodges itself in the beast’s head, flames engulfing the skeletal form at once. Dan quickly turns away from the screeching and with his left forearm blocks claws slashing into his gut.

Dan’s left arm is now sticky with his own blood but that doesn’t stop him from grabbing the wendigo’s arm with his right hand and forcing his left one between its ribs. The added bonus of Dan’s blood quickly ignites a hot flame inside the beast. As screeching erupts from the wendigo’s throat, Dan moves back, admiring his work. Burning these monsters from the inside out is Dan’s favourite way of sending them to hell where they belong.

Dan doesn’t have time to rest as the shout of ‘A little help, please!’ from Phil makes him quickly turn around and run to him.

Phil has managed to beat the wendigos off himself but his water bending doesn’t do much damage. As Dan approaches, Phil throws another ice wall into a wendigo’s face with one hand and sends sharp shards of ice flying towards the other.

Dan skids to a stop next to Phil, dipping his non-bloody hand into Phil’s coat pocket and retrieving the small glass bottle with a rag sticking out its neck. Igniting the rag, Dan turns to the closest monster and throws the bottle. The glass breaks, hitting the wendigo straight in the chest, and pouring flames all over it.

Dan changes positions with Phil. Now he tries to keep the monster at bay while Phil grapples for the other bottle. Umbra’s flaming form appears in Dan’s peripheral and Phil shouts a joyous ‘yes!’. Then the bottle is flying over Dan’s head and spilling fire onto the last wendigo. Dan breathes a sigh of relief, lowering his hands.

“Nicely done,” he remarks to Phil who grins brightly.

Then Phil’s eyes go wide and he tugs Dan behind himself, receiving a slash of claws over his chest. Dan stares wide-eyed for a second, his brain not quite computing how there’s another beast, but then he’s bending down to grip at Umbra, who’s still ablaze, extracting flames from her. He quickly shapes them to resemble a dagger and with a swoop of his arm stabs the wendigo in the heart, pushing it away.

Dan doesn’t even see where the monster drops. He just turns to Phil and kneels next to him on the ground.

“That fucking hurt,” Phil groans, clutching at his torn torso.

Kitsu’s on him in no time, sitting on the wounds and glowing softly. Dan mumbles insults at Phil while he looks through the water mage’s many pockets to find the right potion. Once Dan’s got the vial, he makes Phil drink the contents to the last drop and only then allows himself to fall on his ass, breathing harshly.

“Why would you fucking do something so stupid?!” Dan shouts angrily at Phil, punching his shoulder. But not too forcefully, of course.

“Because I care about you, you asshole!” Phil shouts right back, though his outburst of anger is ruined by the fact that he’s lying on the ground and has a glowing fox on his chest.

“You have a shit way of showing it,” Dan grumbles. “You could’ve died, Phil. How the hell would I survive without you?” The fire mage runs a hand down his face and then ruffles his hair with a huff.

Phil scoffs, rolling his eyes. “I think you’d manage.”

Dan gulps, blinking away tears that appeared out of nowhere. “You think I’d _want_ to manage?” He whispers so quietly, hoping Phil doesn’t actually hear it.

Phil doesn’t indicate either way, just stares at the abyss above them, still frowning. Dan can see a couple of his sigils flaring sky blue under his sleeve. Only their breathing interrupts the deathly silence of the woods.

They get back to the cabin a couple hours before dawn. After Phil got healed and bandaged Dan up, they scoured the woods for a few more hours but didn’t find any more wendigos, only corpses of animals left by them.

Dan is exhausted and all he wants to do is wash up and sleep for a couple millennia. Umbra and Kitsu beat him to the latter idea. They both collapse in front of the fire that Dan ignites with a snap of his fingers and a flare of a sigil.

Phil makes Dan eat some soup, and when Dan emerges from the bathroom, having cleaned of all the blood and sweat, and having changed his bandages, Phil’s got some of his special tea ready. Dan downs it without question and feels his magic thrumming under his skin, recharging.

Dan finally collapses onto their bed. It’s the only furniture that’s new in Celeste’s cabin. And only because the two of them needed a double. Other than that, Phil’s not changed a thing.

Phil crawls under the sheets a few minutes later, and Dan extinguishes the candles, leaving only the fireplace as a light source. The water mage smells sweet and citrusy, like the herbal mix he’s addicted to and has undoubtedly used just before getting into bed. But right now Dan doesn’t want to think about it or anything else for that matter. The hunt was tough and he wants to relax.

Dan turns on his side, his fingers gliding up Phil’s ribs, glad that there is no trace of the wounds. It’s a mere suggestion, one that Phil’s said no more than yes to lately. This time Phil responds in kind, his own hands finding their way to Dan’s skin, and Dan exhales in relief; he really needs this tonight.

Phil pushes at his shoulder, forcing Dan onto his back. The kiss they share, the first after weeks, is gentle yet fierce at the same time. Dan can feel Phil’s desperation pouring over his lips, his worry and affection, and Dan shows his own, drowning in the kiss.

Phil’s fingers caress slowly, reverently over Dan’s skin. Their sigils ignite one another, and soon they’re bathing in a sea of blue and red, gold and white. Magic manifests itself in the air, charging the space around them, zinging with sparks.

Dan can’t stop his own obscene moan as Phil’s mouth travels down his neck, sucking and licking and nipping, leaving marks. They’re rocking against one another and it’s been so long that Dan doesn’t think he’ll last long. His digits dig deep into Phil’s back, trying to hold onto the moment just a bit longer.

Gently licking his way down Dan’s body, Phil slips in between Dan’s thighs, spreading them apart. The sigh that leaves Dan’s lips as Phil removes his underwear is of utter bliss. The fire mage gives himself over completely, simply enjoying what he’s getting; they’re rarely this loving with one another.

Phil kisses Dan’s hipbones, hands gliding down the brunet’s thighs and then up again. Dan’s fingers intertwine themselves in Phil’s hair, not demanding or anything of the sort, simply there, grounding.

Dan watches as Phil takes him in his mouth and lets out an embarrassingly loud moan at that. Dan’s free hand moves to Phil’s cheek, his thumb caressing the corner of Phil’s stretched lips. Phil’s eyes lock with Dan’s and the water mage begins working in earnest, using every technique that he knows drives Dan to the edge. Dan can’t help his hips from moving. Everything is too much and not enough at the same time. His skin is sensitive to every whisper of Phil’s touch, and the magic under his skin threatens to spill out.

Maybe sensing how close Dan is or maybe just because, Phil releases him with a slight pop. He moves over Dan’s body, mapping it with tongue and hands. The second kiss of the night is more fervent, accompanied by nips to the lips and needy growling.

Phil loses his underwear soon after. Dan can’t stop touching him, too starved for that over the past however long, and doesn’t even care about the stinging of Phil’s tattoos as Dan traces his fingers over them.

Phil’s thumb traces over Dan’s bottom lip and Dan opens his mouth, letting it in, licking over it. Dan can no longer see the blue in Phil’s eyes and he supposes his eyes are as black an abyss. Phil extracts his digit from Dan’s mouth, presenting him with the whole of his palm and Dan licks over it eagerly. Then Phil’s spit slick hand travels down, grasping them both, and Dan’s seeing stars.

Every fibre of Dan’s being is electrified. The humming of the magic surrounds him and adds to the cacophony that is his own heart pounding in his ears and both of their ragged breathing filling the otherwise silent cabin. Dan’s body is on a sensory overload and it’s no surprise that he spills over Phil’s fist pretty quickly.

He’s not aware of much after riding his high. Dan’s blissed out and satisfied and barely manages to reciprocate Phil’s kiss that’s no more than a soft press of lips. As the magic dissipates from the air and their tattoos lose their luminosity, Dan’s mind kicks back into gear.

The brunet turns his head, finding Phil staring right back at him. Dan moves his hand, fingers tenderly brushing over Phil’s sharp cheekbones. Phil turns his head to press his lips to Dan’s palm and then he smiles sadly and moves away, turning his back on Dan.

Right.

The usual then.

Dan flips onto his back, sighing softly to himself and staring at the ceiling. Soon Phil’s breathing evens out and Dan slips out of bed and into to the bathroom to clean himself up. He finds his jeans and shirt, dressing quickly and stepping into his boots. On his way to the door, Dan grabs the bottle of scotch.

The sun is rising when he steps out onto the porch and sits on the top most step. The sky in the east has already turned a dusky pink but the west’s still coal black. Dan digs a cigarette out of his jean’s pocket and lights it with a touch. The smoke he puffs out is quickly scattered by the soft wind. He takes a sip from the bottle and frowns as it burns down his throat.

Mathias was great at playing piano, Dan remembers out of nowhere. It frustrated Elora to no end as she’d spend days learning a new piece with her teacher and then Mathias would just sit next to her, glance at the sheet of music, and play it near perfect. A smile tugs a corner of Dan’s lips upwards when he recalls one instance in particular.

It was before he got his mother into his mess and got her killed. The five of them were in one of the drawing rooms, relaxing after dinner. The sun was setting and the balcony doors were wide open, letting in the slight spring breeze and the scent of orange blossoms.

Elora had huffed and puffed for over a half hour not being able to play a certain part right. Mother had stood behind her, running fingers through her curls and whispering calming words to her. And then Mathias had said, ‘How hard could it be?’ with a roll of his eyes. He’d sat next to their sister and played the song perfectly on second try. Elora had glared at him with anger. She had grabbed the bunch of papers and thrown them in the air, shouting something about showing off and life not being fair. Mathias had laughed so hard he almost fell off the stool.

And then Elora had tackled him to the floor. Mathias’s laugh got even louder when Elora tried to beat him with her little fists. Mother had only huffed, standing over them with her hands on her hips, and she had looked at father pointedly. Father had rolled his eyes, got up and picked a screaming and kicking Elora off Mathias.

Dan had stayed in his seat throughout the whole ordeal. He didn’t even pay much attention to the scene, too engrossed in trying to light a candle just by looking at it. Such evening shenanigans were standard anyway.

Dan drinks from the bottle, blinking off the mist of tears clinging to his eyes. He fucking hates how these memories just assault him when they please, not even prompted or anything. He takes a drag from his cigarette.

He should have never come here, Dan thinks morosely. He should’ve listened to Bass and Elora when they said that starting things up with Phil would end badly. He shouldn’t have gotten involved with a fucking mob and gotten his mother murdered in front of his eyes for something he did. Dan truly should’ve done a lot of things and if he ever got the chance he’d change his decisions in a heartbeat.

Even meeting Phil and falling in love with him. Yeah, that feeling hasn’t gone anywhere no matter that his and Phil’s relationship at the moment could be best described as friends with benefits. Or rather frenemies.

Dan knows Phil blames a lot of what’s happened on Dan. Or maybe he’s blaming himself and is taking it out on Dan. That’s what Dan’s doing anyway. He’s got guilt and shame and self-deprecation churning his gut day in and day out, and he takes it out on Phil. Not a fair coping mechanism but whatever, it’s the only Dan’s got.

Through the slightly ajar door, Umbra makes her way outside. The black cat stalks forward gracefully and perches a couple feet away from Dan. Her golden eyes don’t leave the treeline.

“You think we’re gonna be fine?” Dan asks, glancing briefly at his soul animal. He doesn’t really know if he’s asking about his more than fucked up relationship with Phil, or about all of them in general. Whether yes or no, the answer would be the same to both scenarios, he thinks.

Dan takes a long drag from his cigarette and a longer swig from the bottle. How his life turned into this miserable existence he will never understand. Someone upstairs must really have it out for him.

The morning sun glints off the snow banks cheerily. Dan looks over the pristine white of the clearing in front of him before flicking his finished cigarette somewhere to his left. He drinks from the bottle to stop the onslaught of emotions but it doesn’t help. Hasn’t been helping for weeks now; he’ll have to find something better suited for the task. Maybe even some of those herbs he gives Phil shit about.

Umbra lets out a little weary sigh next to him and moves closer. Dan gently strokes over her silky soft fur, and a fragile calm settles over him. Together they watch the sun rise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thank you to everyone who left comments and kudos on this phanfic or on any other fic I wrote, I really appreciate all of it!!  
> I feel a bittersweet ending of my last phanfic is a nice way for me to leave this fandom.
> 
> Have a good one, lovelies!!
> 
> Eva <3


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